The Labyrinth of Amber
by Slypeophi
Summary: Another retelling of the myth of Persephone and Hades.
1. Chapter 1

Hey readers. Please enjoy my version of the story of Hades and Persephone! The are certainly a favourite pairing of mine, and have always wanted a crack at writing the tale. I will also endeavor to update frequently! Though I'm pretty busy, so please forgive me.

I hope you like ^_^. Let me know if you happen to see any spelling/grammar issues. Can only get better if I know about it!

Warning: This story is rated M.

 **Chapter 1**

The air smelt rank. The fetid stench of burnt flesh and human waste, the coppery tang of blood, blending together and lingering thick in the air. It clung to his skin, lay heavy on his tongue.

Hades paused briefly at the mouth of the cave, his gaze drifting over the mangled and twisted bodies of mortals that littered the cavern. Men and women, unprotected and unused to bloodshed or torturous pain, had probably fled to find shelter and safety.

His father's confused lambs that got caught in the crossfire.

He would have felt surprise that there were any of them left in the burnt-out husk of Gaia if exhaustion hadn't ruined his ability to process.

'Looks like Menoetius' work,' a voice murmured by his elbow.

Hades didn't answer, didn't look down at the woman who hovered close to his elbow. His eyes felt too heavy to move away from the carnage.

Gods he was tired.

Gods he stank worse than the bodies.

Hecate sniffed the air, wrinkling her nose, 'They have been dead for months. I doubt Menoetius would return. You should rest.' She stepped forward without waiting for his response, the long skirts of her peplos hiding her feet. Still she looked as if she drifted an inch off the ground. Eerily smooth and mist-like was the Goddess of Magic, with her black hound slinking faithfully at her heels. She paused for a moment, squinting into darkness. She turned to look back up at him, 'The cave travels deep. We may get away from the smell.'

Hades nodded his head slightly in agreement, following her and Seirios as they started inside, trusting that she was correct about the Titan. Menoetius wasn't one to return to his mess. Neither were any of his brothers or sisters that were still above ground.

He was too exhausted to care who won the little spat in the cavern. It was destruction and the rash action of children. Poseidon had wanted to hunt down Menoetius without help, and the Titan and God would have once again scraped their bodies back together and slunk off to lick their wounds before their hunt begun anew. It was a dance between them that had continued for nine long years while Hades and his other siblings employed a number of daring tricks and fought in countless battles to capture and imprison most of the others.

Poseidon and Menoetius were infuriating…but irrelevant.

Darkness swallowed Hades, and his eyes struggled to adjust to the gloom. His hand rose to the side so he could run his fingers along the wall of stone, his gaze glued to the ethereal shine of Hecate as she made her way deeper into the cavern, her ridiculous white skin and hair almost glowing.

'Watch out for – ' Hecate whispered, just as Hades' head connected with a low hanging rock, his grunt of pain echoing through the cavern. 'Hanging stone,' she finished, stepping back towards him, her diminutive height unhindered by the ceiling of the cave that he stooped to avoid. 'Are you alright?'

'Mm fine,' he muttered through clenched teeth. What was another bruise?

Hecate brought both her hands close to her lips and whispered in a language Hades didn't recognise. He had only begun to understand the common tongue. Learning how to fight and survive from the day he was heaved from Kronos' stomach was more important than learning the endless and complex dribble the strange, pale Titaness, who insisted on dogging his every move, seemed to know.

She continued until a blue flame ignited from nothing, hovering in her open palms, crackling and lighting the cavern.

'Why didn't you do that earlier?' Hades grunted.

Hecate turned to him, violet eyes guilty, waving the blue ball of light away to drift by itself. 'Apologies. Sometimes I forget that you have been on Gaia for less than a second in comparison to me. One day, you will be able to see in the dark as aptly as in the day.' Her gaze flicked up, her white brows furrowing slightly as her now free hand lifted to touch his forehead. Her fingers came away bloody and she studied it, rubbing red between her thumb and forefinger, fascinated. 'And heal.'

Hades yawned.

'Or need sleep. New immortals are so complex.' She turned and walked, following an orb of blue further into the dark corridor, continuing until the smell of rot wasn't irritating, continuing until they found a place where Hades didn't have to stoop.

Hades stretched, cracking his neck as Hecate dropped to the sandy floor cross-legged, her fingers threading through Seirios' black coat as he lay next to her. She watched as Hades tugged pieces of stolen armour off his body until he was as bare as the day his brother freed him. Fingers tenderly poked at a deep cut surrounded by dark bruising up his ribs, wincing. Iapetus' spear had wildly swung and connected to his side. Hades didn't have lightning, or a long-range trident, or his Titaness' necromancy magics to distract her enemies with the dead. He had a blade and had to get in close.

Getting hit didn't hurt as much anymore. His body was lean from rough eating and constant movement, lacking any softness from when he was in his prison. But Iapetus was ruthless, and the strike, though misjudged, was strong, throwing him into a cliff face. He would have been skewered to the rock if Hecate hadn't moved him through the aether to safety.

'Can you make water as well as the fire?' he asked, wincing again as his fingers probed to check for anything broken.

Hecate shook her head. 'My magic isn't aligned to Gaia, Hades, and it isn't fire.' She pointed at the hovering, blue globe with a fond smile. 'It is the light of the moon, harnessed, intensified. A skill I enjoyed before the war.' Her eyes drifted down his torso. 'If anything green still grew on this scorched land, I would have been able to find something to help you heal quicker. Not scar as readily.'

Hades' fingers tripped over a raised, red line marring the other side of his abdomen, and then the white star on his left shoulder. Another encounter with Iapetus' spear and the worst pain he had ever known. It was strange to think of his body not scarring. He had seen Kronos heal, the stitching of his skin before his eyes. Hades' healing took infinitely longer and it left its mark. He knelt down to scoop up a handful of sand to rub across his skin to remove the blood, grime and sweat, careful to avoid his open wound.

He was distracted from his task when Seirios lifted his head, suddenly focussed towards the cave entrance. The sound of his low growl made Hades release his handful, lower the tangle of black hair from the back of his neck and reach for the hilt of his sword, while Hecate slowly climbed to her feet. The crunch of footsteps in sand reaching their ears as Hades moved into a position to swing if needed.

'Careful, boy,' a voice spoke before the woman stepped forward into the light. Long, thin, black hair was a tangle around her face, one arm outstretched in front of her thin body as she shuffled forward, the other drifting across the wall. 'I have no desire in destroying children this night.'

Hades didn't lower the blade, but swallowed a sigh of relief. His exhaustion was palpable, his body aching, relieved that he may not have to fight again so soon.

Additionally, he stopped his hand when he saw the state of the unwanted intruder's face. She had been brutally blinded, a wreckage of gore where her eyes should have been, blood a black smear down her cheeks.

'Hecate. Hiding away in the dark like the traitorous little rat you always were.' The woman acknowledged, gingerly pushed her hair from the ruin of her cheeks and tugging strands from the weeping cuts without wincing, a vain attempt of fixing her appearance before them. She turned her head towards the hound and Seirios immediately stopped growling, tail pinned between his legs, and dropping submissively by Hecate's skirts.

The woman straightened, hand not using the support of the wall, proud, tall, god-like.

Hecate swallowed, acknowledging the enemy Titaness, 'Theia.'


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Theia's attention shifted to him, 'And Aidoneus, Son of Kronos, The Unseen One. Or do you prefer Hades?'

Hades didn't reply, his silver eyes watching the Titaness carefully as he unconsciously stepped in front of Hecate, shielding her, wishing he had his armour on if the sickly Titaness decided to lash out.

'Though you aren't the Unseen One often these days. Where is your helm, boy?' Theia continued.

Hades felt a muscle tick in his jaw. 'Lost,' he answered shortly. 'So you are welcome to the name. Though it would be quite ironic, Titaness of Sight.'

Theia's smile tightened, but she bowed her head. 'My thanks. However, I will have to refuse. I own many names and it is difficult to keep track. One day, you may understand my plight.'

'What happened to you?' Hecate blurted, her fingertips reaching to rest on the indent of Hades spine, trying to draw from his strength and stop her hand shaking from her nerves. Though the woman was slight, her knowledge of what was to come made her dangerous. As dangerous as her brothers.

Theia's smile widened, more blood trickling from the gaping wounds, and clasped her hands in front of her. 'My gift has been valuable these past years. To be able to prophesize your movements has saved Kronos from the wrath of you and your siblings many times. Though, the future is an inconsistent and unfaithful creature. The slightest misstep from the path and the thread can change as quickly as a heartbeat. I was incorrect as often as I was correct.' She started a slow walk, circling, maintaining a distance from the two of them. 'You, Hades, have been the most difficult to predict. You appear to be more…erratic. Your decisions malleable. It is admirable. Your brothers made it far simpler for me.' She paused, pointing at him. 'I never prophesised you would squander your valuable helm to save a sister. Demeter and Zeus utilised it well though. They have sent Iapetus to Tartarus.'

Hecate felt muscle tense under her fingers, Hades' surprise mirroring her own. She frowned at Theia, mistrust thick in her voice, 'You have been a torment, a thorn in the flesh for the entirety of the war. How do we know what you say is the truth?'

Theia gestured to her face, her tone harsh, scolding. 'I would hardly do this to myself, rat. This is my punishment for failing to see Iapetus' ruin.' Her thin arm dropped back to her side, chest heaving, and the sudden onset of anger disappeared as quickly as it erupted as she remembered herself.

'How is this punishment?' Hades asked. 'You will heal.'

'That is where you are wrong. Every one of us you imprison, the weaker we become.' She turned away, facing back towards the entrance. 'The age of the Titans is over.'

Hades heartbeat suddenly quickened, the blade lowering. Theia wouldn't share that. Was the end reachable? The chance to rest?

He had never desired anything more in his short moment of freedom.

'My sight was everything to me. To be able to see the sky, my children…' Theia stopped, turned back, the air almost crackling around her, 'As Kronos punished me, I will punish him. I will tell you how to send him to the pit of Tartarus.'

Hades gaze grew sharper, his hand tightening further around his sword until his knuckles were the same colour as Hecate's salt hair, as Theia closed the distance between them by a step.

'In return, you will not send me there. You will allow me to fade into obscurity while you rise to prominence.'

'Why would I do that?' he growled, rage rippling under his skin, warming his blood. 'If what you say is true, that you grow weaker as each of your vile kin gets sent to the pit, I could just kill you now. As the witch said, you have been my torment. I would have had Iapetus many times if you hadn't warned him!'

'Indeed.'

He closed the distance further until he was a hand span away from her, towering over her and hissing into her face, 'He came for me from your counsel. His surprise attack made me lose the use of my arm. I was weak. Hestia managed to distract him so I could flee. So he took her as replacement, raped and tortured her. Destroyed her! She no longer thrives as she once did! She is a shell!' He pointed at the scar marring his shoulder, forgetting her blindness in his fury. 'I couldn't free her for over a year because of this. Because of you!'

Theia didn't reply immediately. Instead, her hand extended towards his shoulder, deftly touching the puckered skin. 'I'm sorry. Hestia was a kind girl. However, what you must understand is there are sacrifices on both sides in all wars. You sent away my Hyperion. What I'm prepared to give you is worth more than Hestia's and Hyperion's sacrifice. To be able to destroy the man who began this. Who took your life for so many years. Who subjected all your siblings to the same fate. Would you forfeit that?'

Hades jerked away from her hand when her finger traced his collarbone, his sudden wish to shove his blade into the hollow of her throat warring with his intense desire to destroy his father.

'You are so unlike your brothers. They would have done as you so wish to do right now. Severed my spinal cord, render me paralysed, without a second thought.' She followed his retreat to maintain the distance. 'I will only offer this once and only to you, Hades, because you are worthy. I know you will keep your word.' She gripped his shoulders, tipping up on her toes to reach his ear to whisper, breath warm. 'Do we have an agreement?'

'Hades?' Hecate warned from behind him. 'Be careful.'

Hades swallowed, and then nodded, Theia's hands that had shifted to cradle his cheeks could feel. She smiled, tilting his head to the side and pulling him down to her level so she no longer had to balance on her toes.

'In one moon cycle from tomorrow, Kronos will return to Olympus for one day before once again going into hiding. You have once chance. Surprise him on the summit. You will need your helm though. Find Zeus and Demeter and get it back, and together you will defeat him.' She let him go, stepping out of arm's reach, her smile disappearing as her fingers twisted in her dirty peplos. 'This is where I will remain for the rest of my days. Become the sand. I will keep my word. I will not bother you and yours again.' She tilted her head towards the exit. 'You should go and rest elsewhere. It is not safe.'

One month, and it could be over. Hades' thoughts whirled, staring at the Titaness until Hecate grasped his arm.

'Come on,' she hissed, tugging his wrist. 'Put your armour back on and let's go.'

He did as she said as she fidgeted nervously, moving closer to the darkness towards the exit from where they had come as he pulled on greaves, chest plate, braces.

He was distracted from his task though when Theia laid her hand over his.

'I will tell you something else as we will never see each other again. Another of my prophecies. Your brother will claim ownership of the throne that should belong to you, deserving of your birth order and worthy of your honour. You will have dominion of a realm that will be frustratingly incomplete. The anger and the dissatisfaction from performing your expected duties will build and your heart will harden. Until you have her. For a realm to be complete, it needs its Queen. Remember this, Hades. It is not the witch despite her pathetic adoration,' she jerked her chin at Hecate, whose pale cheeks flooded with blood, a look of horror on her face. 'Though I cannot blame her.' She removed her hand, and continued. 'If you fight Zeus' decision, another war will start, and you will not get your rest. If you try to change the thread, you will dwell in the shadow of your dissatisfaction and restlessness for the entirety of your existence, and you will not get your rest. You have already begun the weave by giving the helm to your sister. Let the weave continue. I promise you this; you will then have your deserved rest.'


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks to everyone for their faves, follows, and reviews! I love it._

 _I'm really enjoying the story...though it seems to have taken a dark twist in some later chapters._

 _Stay safe!_

 **Chapter 3**

Hermes Erinnes Psychopompos, God of Travellers, the trickster, Guide to the Underworld…was lost.

Gritting his teeth, he tried to recall how to get to the Hall of Judgement.

Domos Hadou, the Dominion of Hades, was a labyrinth of cold, stone corridors and rows of closed doors. Everything looked frustratingly similar that he was unsure if he was, in fact, just moving in circles. He also hadn't travelled past the Acheron for many, many, _many_ years. Not since Hades' three headed hound was no more than a pup and about the size of a horse. Now Cerberus was the length and height of a warship, and two of the heads that wasn't napping didn't seem pleased to see him.

He may have remembered when Hermes tied a flaming branch to his tail as a prank.

Hermes continued, tapping his caduceus against black stone so that the sound echoed down the corridor, a weak attempt to get someone's, anyone's, attention, hoping it wouldn't be a shade.

He despised shades.

He muttered a curse at Zeus for sending him to the home of misery when he came to another junction of halls that looked identical. He peered down each, anger building.

'Does the trickster need help?'

Hermes nearly jumped out of his skin, spinning to see the pale woman leaning against one of the floor to ceiling pillars.

The Goddess of Magic studied him. If she was surprised to see him inside Hades' Dominion, she didn't show it.

His thrumming heart slowed, a grin stretching over his youthful face, pleased for more reasons than one to see the albino; a word he had learnt from mortals to name those that had her strange colouring.

Though mortals were wont to burn those babes in belief they were Cacodaemons.

Hermes found her seashell hair and strange eyes striking, and her desire to remain unassuming and distant piqued his interest. A stark comparison to so many of the immortals who dwelt on Olympos.

He sent his wand on a spin around the back of his knuckles before catching it in his palm, sending it around again. 'You've come to my rescue. Lucky me.'

Hecate didn't return his easy smile. 'What are you doing here?'

'Would you believe that I have come to see you?'

'No.'

His grin grew wider, catching his wand one last time. 'You're correct. As always. However, I find it a treasured gift that _you_ will be leading the way to Hades. Zeus sent me to speak to him.'

Hecate remained unmoved for a short moment, watching the god who could never be still. A wild animal held within the too small skin of a man. She tilted her head down the corridor that Hermes was contemplating travelling if she hadn't intercepted him, 'I don't recall Hades heading towards the River Mnemosyne. It has been some time since he has wanted to recall his past life.'

Hermes muttered another curse, throwing his arms wide. 'This place needs directive signs!'

'Oh. I wasn't sure if they would have helped you as I wasn't aware you could read.'

Hermes threw his head back and laughed, unfazed, 'I can read, minx. Though if you're willing to teach me more than what I know, I would relish it.' He winked at her.

She ignored him, pushing herself off cold stone. 'Follow me.' Much to his frustration, she moved past him and back the way he had come. He followed after her, slightly unnerved that the only sounds of footsteps were his own.

'How is my little Goddess of Magic?' he asked, quickening his pace to walk by her side, needing to fill the silence.

'Busy.' Thin shoulders shrugged. 'What does our illustrious king want with him this time? Has Hera released another monster in her jealousy? Do we need to celebrate another bastard child?'

'There would not be enough days in the year to celebrate all of Zeus' illegitimate children.'

Hecate came to halt and looked up at him, the corner of her mouth ticking up. And Hermes was momentarily captivated by glowing violet eyes and a promise of a smile. He reached out to finger a loose curl of white hair, examining the colour against the brown of his skin. 'When will you come back to the upper world? Your visits are too infrequent.' He stepped close until he could smell the scent of rainstorms drifting from her hair. 'This is no place for you. It's gloomy and cold and dark and you are made of light.'

Hecate shook her head, her look of mild amusement replaced with sad longing. 'There is no place for me.'

Hermes paused from his toying, curious about her look of melancholy.

'We're here Hermes,' she said, stepping out of arms reach and pointing behind her. The recognisable dark wooded door, twice the height of him, engraved with a complete map of the underworld on its surface, and what he had been searching for for several hours. His gaze was drawn to the glittering stones that made up the five rivers circling Hades and took his attention away from the goddess.

'How would you convince Hades to attend a feast?' Hermes questioned, looking back down to find the space beside him unoccupied, the corridor empty. 'Never mind. I still expect to see you soon, Hecate!' He called, wondering if she would hear him. Swallowing, he pushed the door open and despite its size, it swung inwards easily, eerily silent like the rest of Hades' dominion.

The grand hall was smooth marble, tall ceilings, and thankfully shade free. The walls were lined with rows and rows of shelves filled with large, red leather volumes. The only other pieces of furniture were a large wooden desk where three old men paused from their tasks when he stepped inside, and a large, ebony throne upon the dais in the centre in the room.

'Hades!' Hermes cried, striding forward towards his uncle, arms thrown wide. He reached the dais and bowed low. 'It is a pleasure to see you. It has been too long.' He looked up, still bent at the hips, hazel eyes focusing on the God of the Dead.

Hades didn't move. Didn't acknowledge the presence of the Messenger of the Gods. His eyes were closed, fist holding up his chin as he lounged on one of the armrests of his throne, long legs stretched out in front of him. All sharp angles and dark shadows, black hair curling around pale cheeks. So completely different from his two brothers that Hermes wondered briefly if they were born from the same parents.

He was nothing like how the mortals perceived him. Perhaps they gave him the look of a father, small, bearded, soft, to make him seem less menacing than the reality.

Hermes fidgeted awkwardly, before straightening again, wondering if the great god was asleep. 'Er…' he started again. 'I'm here on the behest of the King of the Gods. He wishes your presence at the Freedom Celebrations. As it has been a thousand years since…you and your brothers – '

He stopped when Hades' eyes opened, silver gaze like cold iron. He lifted his head from his fist, tilting it to the other-side, studying the golden god fidgeting at the base of his dais as if he only just realised he was there.

'-defeated the Titans,' Hermes continued on a mumble.

Despite it seeming that his attention was centred on him, Hades always appeared distracted. As if only his body was present, while his spirit had left on some journey he'd glimpsed peripherally. A place Hermes couldn't perceive. It made Hermes feel insignificant, unimportant, without the God of the Dead even needing to move.

'As you've missed many of the last celebrations –'

'My sisters played just as an important role in the defeat of my father,' Hades interjected. Though he murmured, his voice carried across the room, Hermes having no trouble hearing him. 'Why are we not acknowledging that?'

'Well…yes. Of course,' Hermes amended, flushing slightly. He started babbling, a habit when he was nervous, 'Though I don't think Hera would be there. Her anger with Zeus has reached new heights, and she refuses to be in his presence after learning he had pursued Aphrodite. Though I wouldn't blame him. She is so beautiful it almost hurts to look at her. But Hera and Aphrodite have a rivalry that I fail to comprehend. Demeter may or may not be there. Her actions are just as changeable as her moods. And Hestia-'

'Why would it be imperative that I go?' Hades rumbled, one of his dark eyebrows rising, annoyed. 'If all of my beloved kin don't have to attend, then I won't.'

'He said you have a responsibility to be a more present god. Mortals are frightened of you.'

Hades shrugged.

Hermes' shoulders slumped, 'And because he told me that I can't leave until you promise that you attend. Despite the beauty of your realms, I find that my skills would be more...appreciated...in the upper world.'

Hades' returned to rest his chin on his fist, long fingers of his other hand tapping against his thigh. 'Make yourself comfortable, boy. Enjoy your stay.'

Hermes would have groaned in frustration, thrown a tantrum, marched out in a rage, any of those things, if he wasn't completely intimidated of the God who had once again closed his eyes.

Frowning to himself, he glanced around the room, hazel eyes dropping on the only others in the Hall. Minos and Aeacus continued their task of tying yellowed parchment into a cover of red leather, while Rhadamanthus was scratching names with a long, white feather quill, and sprinkling sand to dry the ink, pointedly ignoring their exchange.

Hermes' eyes flashed in mirth, a smile stretching across his face.

'Well,' he began, moving slowly from the dais. 'If I am to remain here, I better make myself useful, Lord Hades.'

Minos' rheumy eyes followed the god suspiciously as he came closer to their desk to run his fingers across the wood. Hermes glanced back, noticing that Hades' steel eyes had opened and watched.

He grinned wider, a flash of white teeth, reaching out in a burst of speed to tug the leather volume out from under Minos' nose before aged hands could snatch it back. 'So how can I help?'

Aeacus made an alarmed sound when untied parchment slipped from the book, scattering across the floor, pages and pages of names of the newly dead, Minos and Rhadamanthas gasping in shocked rage.

'What's this for?' Hermes asked, stepping away from them, pretending to study what he had in his hands, not bothered when more parchment slipped free. Rhadamanthas and Minos immediately knelt down to frantically gather the parchment, while Aeacus came at him, the short, old man only reaching his shoulder as he tried to get the book back.

'Aeacus, teach me your ways. Let me help you with your log of the dead.' Hermes grinned, refusing to relinquish his prize, holding it out of reach so the old man had to jump to grasp it. He then refused to let go, Aeacus' inferior strength nothing more than an annoyance.

'Please, My Lord,' Aeacus hissed through gritted teeth, finally managing to tug the book free. 'Go to the damn celebration. Then you won't have to return for another thousand years, and we will be left in peace.'


	4. Chapter 4

_Enjoy!_

 **Chapter 4**

Fingers sank deep into the dirt, grasping a handful of dark soil to rub together between her palms. Kore's tongue flicked out to taste, rolling grit in her mouth.

Fertile.

She spit out what remained in her mouth, pleased. It had taken her most of the day to find a place that was satisfactory for her to use. She placed both palms on the ground.

Fire tickled the base of her spine and burned through her veins, a river of warmth moving towards where she rested her hands. She grit her teeth until she was sure they would crack, sweat trickling down her forehead and the back of her neck until finally a green shoot broke through the surface between her hands, tendrils unfurling across her pale fingers and the dark soil.

Kore released the breath she had been holding with an explosive laugh, pride blossoming in the pit of her stomach like the yellow flowers on her rapidly growing plant. She fell back from her knees, face tilted towards Helios, laughing, her heart beating a dance in her chest as the last creeping vine of the amarantos unfolded.

It was insignificant in comparison to her glorious mother's ability. A mote of dust.

It did not dampen her sense of accomplishment though. The mortals valued the flowers, hung them dry to decorate their temples. One would find it and cherish it as she.

Her mother would be so proud.

She opened her eyes to look at blue skies peeking through olive leaves in exhausted excitement, when her smile slowly diminished. Disbelief doused her feeling of triumph when she saw the position of the sun in the sky. She clambered to her feet, wiping dirty hands on her very filthy chiton, abruptly turning to flee back towards her home.

She heard her mother before she saw her, calling out her name frantically. Kore burst through the last line of trees, breathing heavy, lungs burning. Her mother spun when she heard her winded daughter stumble towards the home, her beautiful, corn-yellow hair dishevelled like she had been tearing her fingers through it.

'Kore!' Demeter cried, rushing towards her, grasping her face between her hands as blue eyes frantically roved over her face, speaking before Kore could explain. 'Where have you been? Are you hurt?' Demeter stepped back to look down at Kore's dishevelled clothing, hands clasping her arms, fingers digging into pale skin until it hurt.

'I'm fine, I promise-'

'You're filthy! What has happened to you? Explain at once!'

'I'm sorry Mama. I am safe. I was in the olives…'

Kore froze.

A frown marred Demeter's face. 'The olives?'

Kore sucked her bottom lip into her mouth to bite, colour draining from her cheeks, cursing herself on her complete inability at keeping her mouth shut. She had hoped to warm her mother slowly to the idea that she had stepped from her boundary, hoped to reveal her accomplishment, to prove she was capable of something other than picking flowers or baking honey cakes. 'The olive groves.'

Disappointment hardened beautiful eyes, Demeter releasing her arms.

'It was fine. I promise you, no one saw me!' Kore said quickly, trying to explain before her mother's disappointment transformed to something else, to something that panicked Kore to her bones. Her mother could be so changeable it made it difficult for the young girl to follow, kept her constantly attentive, looking for any warning sign of Demeter's explosive anger. She reached out to grasp at handful of her mother's cream skirts, but they were pulled out of reach.

Her mind whirled as she tried to think of something that would diminish Demeter's growing agitation. 'Mama. I grew amarantos. With my own hands! I went to the groves because I needed help from the good soil. Not like you-'

'What have I told you about going to where the mortals dwell?' Demeter interrupted, voice chilly, arms crossing over her chest.

Kore's heart sank, her small and only achievement ignored.

'I know! No one was there, though. I was alone,' Kore assured, trying to keep her voice from shaking. 'No one would have seen me. It's not olive harvest.'

Anxiety twisted her stomach when Demeter's hand flew up to silence her.

'I have told you time and time again, and you continue to disobey,' her mother continued, shaking her head. 'I don't understand why you're repeating this behaviour again. I thought you were nearly grown, mature, responsible. I think I was wrong.'

Kore's hands trembled, nails digging into the soft flesh of her palms, the colour draining from her cheeks. 'Mama please. I was safe. I promise. No one saw me.'

Demeter shook her head, the girl's pleas bouncing off her like feathers on armour. Instead, she began combing her fingers through golden hair to smooth it back into place. 'Kore, you need to contemplate. Pray to Dice.'

'Mama, no.'

'Kore,' her mother warned.

Tears dribbled down her cheeks, streaking through the dirt, as she fell to her knees in front of her mother. 'No, not there! Please, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! Pleeeeaaaase.'

'Kore!'

Kore's eyes screwed shut, hands covering her ears, her heart beating so hard in her ribs that is thundered, refusing to hear what her mother was saying.

Pain exploded through her skull when Demeter grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her so brutally she was yanked across the ground. She howled in agony, hands flying to where Demeter had grasped her hair to try and get her to release her, ineffective against her mother's strength and power. Demeter continued dragging her into their home, towards the location of her dread. Using her free hand, Demeter threw open the trap door on the floor of their small kitchen, pulling Kore sharply until the frail girl fell into the shallow hole the thick wood door revealed. Kore landed awkwardly, pain shooting through her hip, her wrist twisting as she broke her fall. Before she could even look up to plead with her furious mother, the angry goddess slammed the door above her, drowning Kore in darkness so concentrated she could not see an inch in front of her eyes.

Terror clawed its way up her throat, choking her, silencing a scream. She scrambled up gracelessly, wrist throbbing, the hole too small for her to stand. Her fingers reached to the thick wood above her head, nails scrabbling.

'You need to think of your actions, sweet Kore. I can't understand why you continue to betray me! Your mother, who cares so deeply and only wishes to keep you safe! Who does everything for you! The beings of this world are uncouth, uncaring, and will do everything to harm you. It is the reason I have these rules!' Demeter's muffled voice said through the locked trap door. 'I will go at once to also pray to Dice on what I should do.'

Kore found she was capable of making a sound; a frightened keen of a dying creature. It was the terror of not knowing how long her mother would leave her this time. It had almost been a full cycle of the moon the last time, the pain of hunger her only way of discerning the length of time she was trapped as days and nights became meaningless in her pitch-black prison.


	5. Chapter 5

_Hi guys! Sorry for the late chapter...I've been on holiday in Japan! Which was bloody amaze!_

 _Thanks once again for all the reviews and love! It makes me so happy._

 _In answer to_ _ **EndlessReign -**_ _that's not weird at all! I've never been fond of Demeter...so I always envisioned her being a bit of a cow._

 **Chapter 5**

Tedium was poison. And it lingered exhaustively.

Unlike anger. Anger made one feel alive. It burned the skin, through blood. Lights shone brighter, sounds clearer. Anger was a giant wave. It rose up; overwhelming, devastating, engulfing; before crashing into a smattering of foam across sand. It rose and crashed again and again. But every swell was a little smaller, a little less overcoming, until Hades had nothing left.

He had been gifted a realm of monotony and darkness and so similar to where he had resided for the first century of his life.

He would never grasp freedom.

It was a cruel joke.

Theia's prophecy had been correct for the most part.

When his rage at his lot subsided into tired numbness, he had visited the Mnemosyne often, drinking the water to recall that night perfectly, trying to unravel Theia's words in case he had missed details about the elusive _thing_ that would break him from his stupor. It yielded nothing. He knew no queen.

Eventually, the prophecy twisted Hades' belief as years rolled on and on and on, his constant questioning of whether he felt woefully inadequate just because she had declared he must be. His conviction faded into obscurity, and now Hades was painfully _bored_.

Hades hadn't been to the upper world for years that when his chariot broke through the earth, the brightness stung at his eyes. Momentarily blinded him as his pupils adjusted. He tugged his horses to a halt, stepping from the chariot. The sun was stifling, no cool breeze to cool the sudden heating of skin. Hades pulled his thick, black cloak off his body, letting the sun touch bare flesh not covered by his tunic. He breathed a sigh, closing his eyes, tilting his face to Helios…just for a moment.

If he had to make an appearance at his brother's ridiculous celebrations, it would be brief. He would rather dwell in his tedious void than having to interact with Olympians for longer than was necessary.

He opened his eyes, gaze drifting to the mountain, miles away from where he had rent the earth. He had to make a brief stop before he was subject to torture.

He stepped towards his destination; a shack haphazardly held together by the boughs of a large tree that had grown through it, blending so perfectly with the surrounding woods that it could easily be missed if one wasn't actively seeking it. He reached out, about to open the rotten panel of wood used as a door when it swung out violently towards him, narrowly avoiding hitting him.

A wraith of a girl flung herself at him, wrapping thin arms around his torso and squeezing, smiling up at him in glee before he could react.

'Hades, Hades, Hades. Where have you been?' the girl murmured, voice lyrical and soft. She stepped back, clasping her hands in front of her body as she looked him over.

'Hestia. You look…' he glanced over her skeletal body, the black filth of soot on her clothes, her palms, a smear across a hollow cheek, made matted, pale hair darker. 'Dirty.' He finished lamely.

She chuckled as she twisted from side to side, swaying to unheard music. She showed him her sooty hands. 'Goddess of the Hearth. One must become one with their calling. As Hades has with his Hades.'

'I didn't call my realm that, Hestia. The mortals did.'

'Perhaps the mortals formed this Hades then. Made you wear black and look all scary,' she twinkled dirty fingers up near her face, widening eyes to look astounded, before laughing. She turned away from him and disappeared back in her home as if he was no longer there, leaving him to follow the waif.

He always liked Hestia's home. The crooked branches held up the ceiling, garlands of flowers and herbs hung from them and sweetened the air so it didn't smell of rotting wood and moss. Any surface she had was covered in small, wooden statues of deities, pieces of pretty pottery or glass, shells from the ocean. He sat on a stool to watch Hestia returning to what he supposed made her so filthy; drawing swirls in the ash of her burnt-out fire.

'Why do I have the pleasure of your company on this day?' she hummed.

'Zeus summoned me. It's been a thousand years since the war. He wishes to celebrate it.'

Hestia's fingers froze from their drawing, her thin shoulders stiffening.

'That silly war,' she whispered.

Hades studied her profile as she turned away from her hearth, moving to an alcove in the trunk of the tree to pull out a loaf of dark bread to place on her tiny table.

'You won't attend?' he asked. He couldn't tell her answer, unsure whether her sudden swaying was another dance or whether she was shaking her head.

Her grey eyes drifted across him, never meeting his gaze, always slightly hazy and unfocused. She inhaled sharply, lifting a knife to cut a slice to hand to him and pushed a clay pot towards him.

'I'm –,' she started, taking her other stool across from him, picking at the skin around nails chewed down to the quick. 'I am unsure of what to wear.'

'Neither do I,' he muttered, distracted by food. He was wearing an unadorned, black tunic and trousers, the furthest from celebration robes he could find. He dipped fingers into the jar and spread honey across the dark bread so thick it dribbled down his wrist.

The one pleasure he had in the world.

Hestia gave him a pleased smile as Hades dug into his bread and pool of honey. 'Little child with your honey.'

Hades swallowed the last of his treat, sucking at his fingers, glancing at her as she started vacantly outside her window. The broken goddess. Damaged beyond repair. Visiting her became more and more difficult.

'It is right that you be there, Hestia. You played your part…'

'Shhhh,' she shushed.

'If it wasn't for you, I would have been crushed into dust - '

Her eyes closed, and she covered her ears, humming tunelessly. Her way of drowning out what she didn't wish to hear. He sighed, went back to cleaning golden honey from his skin. She removed her hands when she noticed he had stopped speaking and started braiding small sections of her hair.

He tried to sound casual. To keep her speaking to someone other than herself. A small semblance of normalcy. 'It has been years since I've seen Zeus. Or our other siblings for that matter. I believe even Demeter will be there.'

Hestia paused in her braiding, her pale brows dropping slightly into a frown, her mouth twisting in a scowl. Hades' sharp gaze didn't miss it.

'Demeter,' Hestia whispered, venomously. Hades blinked at her, surprised by her tone. Demeter and Hestia had used to be close. Closer than the others had ever been to her after him.

'What's wrong with Demeter?' he asked, curious at her sudden lapse in behaviour.

'She's too cruel. Cruel Demeter with her cruel hands. She deserves no celebration!' Hestia hissed, throwing her hands in the air. She climbed to her feet and started cleaning away his meal, almost appearing sound as she worked, muttering as she brushed crumbs off her table. 'Cruel Demeter. She doesn't deserve to play and sing and dance! Do you know she cut out her eye when she was a babe? Because she did not like the colour of that one, so out she cut it. Pop! Like stepping on a grape. Cruel, twisted Demeter!'

Hades frowned at her, confused at what she was talking about. Demeter was as changeable as wind, and her temper could be terrifying, but he would have never described her as cruel.

'Who's eye?'

'Pretty girl. Pretty girl with her pretty eyes. You see, one was like hers, while the other is dark as night. As dark as your realm. She didn't like that eye, so out it must come! Because they need to be like hers. A replica of her beauty is what she wanted in a daughter,' Hestia placed her pot of honey carefully in its spot on her table. She suddenly looked at him. Really looked at him, grey eyes clear as they fixed onto his. 'But you don't always get what you want. Do you Hades? You never wanted to rule. You wanted to drift free and tirelessly through this era.'

Hades stared at his sister. He had never heard of it. The birth of children of gods was always a loud and excessive affair that he was unsure if Hestia was telling the truth.

'With our mighty Zeus,' she smiled, reaching out to grasp his hand still sticky with honey. Her eyes roved over his face fondly, 'You have left that weave, and their threads have crossed. Because you own a realm that is woefully incomplete, yes?'

Hades felt his chest tighten as she repeated words that he hadn't heard for over a thousand years. That no other had heard except Hecate. He felt as if he tongue weighed like iron. 'Demeter had a daughter with Zeus?'

She nodded, and turned away from him to stare vacantly out her window again. 'He left her like he does with all the others. She didn't like that. No, it twisted her mind, so she hides her pretty daughter from his lustful gaze.'

Mouth like a desert, hands sweating rivers, his fingers tightened on hers, 'Where?'

She blinked, and then pulled her hand free to grasp her pot. 'I don't know. More honey?'


	6. Chapter 6

_Hi guys,_

 _Readers, not to worry! I promise the next chapter will be a meeting! :P. I just want to get some key characters introduced. (I really like Aphrodite...she's sassy)_

 _I do like characters with their sneaky motivations :D_

 _Thanks everyone for the faves, follows, and those awesome people who write me reviews. You keep me going._

 _Enjoy!_

 **Chapter 6**

Aphrodite swirled the contents of her cup as she walked through revelling guests. There was something to be said about the celebrations of gods; it was lavish. However, it was nothing compared to what Zeus had arranged. The air itself even felt thick with sweetness and gold.

Long low tables were weighed down with platters of figs, olives, golden apples and roasted chestnuts, bowls of goats' milk and quail eggs, large gold goblets teeming with wine and ambrosia, every space between plates of goat, sheep and pig was decorated with shining, golden flowers. Golden swathes of fabric hung from beams to mute the sunlight. Gods and goddesses, nymphs and daemones, many that Aphrodite didn't even recognise, lounged on rows and rows of large, golden pillows and couches or danced to the sound of lyre, kithara, aulus and pan pipes, or disappeared into the specially created garden to bless the ground with lovemaking.

She picked up one of the flowers to bring to her nose, inhaling what made the room so saccharine and what was covering the scent of sweating bodies.

It was sweltering.

She wasn't surprised. The Anemoi, gods of the four winds, were distracted from cooling Gaia by their games of chasing small, winged nymphs of the air. She tried not to cringe when Notos captured one and ripped off its dragonfly wings, laughing drunkenly at the others as the small thing squealed in pain.

'They do grow back.'

Aphrodite glanced at her companion, taking a sip of her wine.

'You look ravishing,' Hermes grinned at her, all charm and shining eyes as his lecherous gaze travelled over her.

Her eyes rolled so far back she was sure she glimpsed the back of her skull, until she felt his arms encircle her waist and pull her into the hard planes of his body, his breath close to her ear.

'Hermes!' she snarled, slapping his face so hard that he released her with a pained grunt. 'My lover is watching!'

Hermes grinned, bouncing back, his hazel eyes taking in all the revellers until they sought out Ares…drunk and immobile on one of the couches.

He nodded, all seriousness, 'I better flee for safety immediately.'

Aphrodite tilted her head to the side, a red curl that had unravelled from her elaborate style tickling her cheek, gesturing subtly. Hermes followed the tilt of her head to where Hephaestus sat, jealous fury and suspicion written on every line of his face, staring at them together

Hermes smiled at him, twinkling his fingers in a placating wave, before turning back to bow low to Aphrodite; a ruse to move a safer distance from the stunning goddess before her husband decide to remove limbs. He straightened, whispering, 'Lover is an exaggeration.'

Aphrodite shrugged, 'Despite his horrible disfigurement, he is a proficient lover. I can't complain.'

'Yet you sneak to Ares' bed often?'

She smiled, green eyes sparkling in mischief. 'You need to ride a fine stallion over a donkey on occasions.' She stepped away through gossamer gold and moved towards one of the fountains, needing to escape her husband's jealous gaze, and to feel cool water on her heated skin.

Hermes followed after her, dropping by her side and running the back of his fingers along her bare arm as she cupped water and pat the back of her neck. 'I appreciate a hard ride. I'm certain there's a soft bit of ground under those willows, perfect to worship you.'

She slapped his hand away, scowling. 'Never in a million years, Psychopompos, would I be 'worshipped' by you.' She settled next to him, rearranging the skirts of a peplos that matched her eyes. 'Weren't you supposed to be doing some task for Zeus? Getting a certain God of the Dead to the celebrations?'

'He's coming. I made sure I saw him tear free from the underworld. Thank the gods. I would have shrivelled into a miserable husk if I was trapped in that cold wasteland.'

'What a pity he decided to save you from that fate.' She sipped more wine, keeping her voice neutral, 'Where is he then?'

Hermes glanced around, and then pointed, Aphrodite's gaze following the direction of his finger.

Hades walked into the garden, frowning at his surroundings, before striding towards the golden room. Aphrodite's grip tightened on her goblet, sucking at her bottom lip. Hades was…something else. Something mysterious, calculating, forbidden, something that made the blood warm in her veins and her heart beat a little faster.

Curiousity was powerfully intoxicating to her.

It was how Ares ended up in her bed; the curiousity over whether she could dominate and overpower one so strong. He was surprisingly easy. All that was needed was a suggestion of what would happen between them.

Hades would be an entirely different beast.

Warmth pooled in her belly at the thought of that challenge.

Aphrodite drained her goblet, and thrust it towards Hermes. 'Get me some more wine, would you?'

Hermes leapt up to do her bidding. Finally alone, she turned back to the rippling pool of water to her reflection. Wine-red hair, berry stained lips, wide green eyes; a pretty face. She re-pinned her loose curls, rearranged the fine, silver chains that threaded through the strands, pinching pale cheeks to give them colour, making sure her appearance was close to perfect. She climbed to her feet and moved towards where Hades had disappeared.

* * *

Hades looked around the lavishly decorated room and saw nothing. He had one purpose. Had to find someone, _anyone_ , who could give him answers.

He pushed aside some god, grey eyes darting to dark alcoves of gold cloth and soft cushions where figures lounged that lined the room, finding no god or goddess that he needed.

His hand snapped out, grasping the closest chiton he could reach; some minor deity. Pulling the god closer by the back of his neck to bark in his face, 'Where's Demeter?'

The boy spluttered at him.

Growling, he shoved him away and continued his almost frantic search, when a hand reached out to rest on his arm. Aphrodite stepped in front of him, smiling warmly, the only goddess Hades knew who appeared to be pleased to see him. And he had no time for her. He grasped her shoulders, watching her peridot green eyes widening slightly in surprise when he tugged her closer, eyes flashing with something she couldn't decipher, had never witnessed during any of his brief, infrequent visits.

'Have you seen Demeter?'

Aphrodite stared, surprised by the way he was behaving. Frantic, agitated…feverish. Completely at odds to the usual stoic nature of the God of the Underworld. She had never been so close to his body. He was taller than Ares. Leaner. Surprisingly warmer. His eyes, grey as storms, studied hers, mouth twisted into a scowl, forehead damp with sweat and sticking black tendrils of hair to skin that was darker than was expected for someone who spent most their time underground.

He smelt like spice.

And her face heated like that of a virgin maid.

'Aphrodite,' he growled, voice deep, warning. 'Is Demeter here?'

'Dem…Demeter?' she asked, voice no more than a whisper. She swallowed, trying again, ignoring the small twist of envy that he wanted another. 'No. Demeter hasn't come.'

Hades snarled, and released her, much to her disappointment. She was about to reach out, to place her hand on him, when a booming voice distracted them all.

She would have curse Zeus to a life of dark horrors and lovelessness at that moment as Hades turned from her towards his brother.

'Gods and Goddesses!' Zeus cried to all his guests, stepping across his dais, appearing from somewhere unknown, throwing arms wide. 'Shut your mouths! I have a speech!'

Zeus twisted, picked up a goblet and raising it high, one sleeve of his himation falling down one shoulder. 'Welcome to the Freedom Celebration. It has been over a thousand years since I freed my brothers and sisters, your saviours, from the bowels of my father!'

A cheer broke out, goblets thrown up into the air.

'Over a thousand years where I fought for you, to free Gaia from the blight of the Titans, to create a paradise for you to exist!'

Another loud cheer punctuated his speech.

'And finally! A thousand years since I put that treacherous bastard, my father, into Tartarus to burn for the entirety of his existence!'

The crowd exploded, echoed through the room, the revellers jumping from their seats to cheer for the King of the Gods.

'So drink, fellow Olympians, drink and dance and celebrate the Golden Era!'

Hades would have snorted. Zeus was never one to make speeches, but it was so drunkenly incognisant, so short, so insignificant for something so vital, that calling it a speech was a stretch. However, Hades had a singular purpose. He pushed his way through bodies to the dais, towards the god who had grabbed a nymph around the waist press his mouth on her neck. He strode up the steps just as the nymph wriggled free, and Zeus swung towards him, a radiant smile spreading across his boyish face when he saw him.

'Brother!' he hiccupped, arms thrown wide to embrace him. Hades remained out of reach.

'Where's your daughter? The daughter you had with Demeter?'

Zeus blinked stupidly, blue eyes hazy, his body reeking of wine and the sweet scent of ambrosia. He had trimmed his beard, cut his hair shorter, blond curls now only reaching his ears and not the usual long tangle.

So completely dissimilar to him. Unkempt and childlike and... _pretty_. It was the best way to describe Zeus.

'Demeter's daughter?'

Hades was tempted to grasp his brother by the nape and shake him sober. Instead, he gritted his teeth, forcing out, 'Yes. You had a daughter with her. Where. Is. She?'

'Who cares about her? Her or her bitch mother,' he frowned at him, slurring. 'I didn't want that girl. Persephone. Didn't have a role for her, so she was a pointless creature. Demeter was so mad she made me not...work' He clumsily grasped what was between his legs through his chiton. 'Couldn't please Hera in the bed furs for a moon and she was furious.' He chuckled, and thumped Hades on the chest with the back of his fist, frowning down at his clothing. 'What on Gaia are you wearing? This is a celebration, for fuck sake, and you're dressed in…rags!'

Hades had ceased listening , the name circling through his mind. Around and around. _Persephone._

'Where is she?' he repeated, but Zeus had stumbled away while his mind had drifted, leaving him on the dais with the Goddess of Love. He turned to her, eyes wild. 'Do you know?'

'Persephone?' Aphrodite asked, eyes searching his face. Her interest was palpable. 'Why do you need her?'

Hades blinked and his face transformed into a mask of disinterest once again. 'I have no obligation to share my motivations with you.'

Aphrodite studied that mask, not annoyed at him in the slightest.

He couldn't hide it.

She knew when one was craving someone. It was in her power, her very essence, being able to read that energy.

It was almost…devastating. The force of his want for someone it seemed he hadn't even met. She rarely witnessed such need. And especially from someone like _him_. Unlike his brothers, Hades had never seemed interested in the women that were drawn to him. Even to Lethe. That was a clumsy affair of lust from the God of the Underworld who was ridiculously young and dangerously angry, and a pretty nymph. It was nothing like…this.

Aphrodite's brow arched slightly, uncomfortable, 'Demeter turned her into an olive tree out of spite for your brother. In some grove in Eleusis by the river. I can show you.'


	7. Chapter 7

_Hey friends!_

 _This chapter was...hard! It took a lot of editing to make me happy with it...so I hope you like it._

 _Thanks for all the faves, follows, reviews, general love._

 **Chapter 7**

'The music was beautiful, and everywhere was hanging gold,' whispered Ligeia, leaning her head back into Thelxipeia's lap so her sister's fingers could untangle the knots from her hair and thread narcissus through curls.

'And we danced until dawn every night!' Peisinoe continued, in an equally hushed tone, rubbing cool river-water up her arms.

As if Kore couldn't hear them. She didn't exist.

It was a normal occurrence with her three companions. As they grew older, Kore was a bore, a hindrance to their games and stories that she never understood and couldn't attribute to in any way. They were forced to keep an eye on her for Demeter.

So she sat on her rock and was ignored by her minders, kept her head bent over Ligeia's peplos to repair where the river nymph had torn it at their special celebration. Her imagination drifted like the water that tickled over her feet, imaging liquid gold and sound and dancing. Her head pounded uncomfortably.

'Was Apollo there?' Thelxipeia asked, wide eyed and eager.

'All the gods were there.' Peisinoe stretched her arms above her head, smiling fondly at the memory.

'She kissed Eros,' Ligeia whispered even lower so that her sister had to lean down to hear what she had said.

'We didn't just kiss.'

Thelxipeia gasped, and then became indignant. 'I wish I could have gone. Why couldn't I go?'

'Because you're too young,' Peisinoe flicked some water at her.

'And too annoying,' Ligeia added, giggling until her sister sharply tugged her hair back.

Kore flinched, her bone needle jabbing deep into her palm when the nymph's pained cry surprised her. She watched, detatched, as blood welled from the wound, oozing down her wrist and staining the linen she held in her hand.

'Kore!' Ligeia cried, clambering to her feet and marching over to her to snatch her clothing back from Kore's hands, dismayed at the bloom of red on her skirts. 'Ergh! You've ruined it!' She thrust the peplos into the water in a vain attempt to scrub the stain clean, while Thelxipeia and Peisinoe burst into laughter, the sound soft bells and mockery.

Kore didn't react.

She was delirious.

Demeter had returned to her. It was a short containment. Perhaps a week? But Kore could never sleep in that place. The darkness terrified her to her soul. Her mind convincing her that her mother would forget her, that she would become a memory. Her muscles seized until they cramped, her lungs burning as she tried and failed to control her breathing, her throat sore from her praying to anyone that would listen.

And then Demeter had returned. Her mother cooed at her until she stopped trembling, and then she was gone again, leaving strict instructions. Kore couldn't spend her time alone anymore. She had lost that privilege.

Time with river nymphs.

To be unnoticed and disregarded. To pretend that she couldn't hear their whispering chatter of people she didn't know and of places unfamiliar.

Ligeia scowled angrily, kicking water over her sisters as Kore got to her feet and carefully climbed from the river while the three nymphs busied themselves fighting. The heat and her exhaustion were making her feverish, and she had the sudden need to be alone.

* * *

Hades reached out and touched the trunk.

Silence.

It was an abnormal feeling for him not to hear the newly dead. The constant hum in his head from shades waiting for judgement, a narration of their sins and virtues as they waited for his verdict, voices blending together until it was incoherent prattle. If he ignored it or kept away for longer than necessary and the number of dead increased, the noise became a roar and his head felt like it would split.

And now…nothing.

Aphrodite showed him. The olive tree that Demeter had changed her child to. It was a beautiful, old thing; twisted silver trunk, dark, silvery leaves and weighted branches that hung close to the river.

He hadn't realised the quiet. Not immediately. A combination of being so accustomed to the clutter in his head and being too distracted by the sudden need to destroy something. A small critter. One of Zeus' mortals. An entire village. A planet. He was so very close to finding Demeter, his own sister, and choking the life from her. Then he finally noticed it. The complete silence. Alone with nothing but his own thoughts.

'Why did she do it?' Hades had asked Aphrodite.

She had shrugged. 'She was unhappy with Zeus. He had rejected her, returned to Hera, and then refused to acknowledge the girl as his own and give the child a place alongside the Olympians. So Demeter turned her into the tree before him, Athena, and myself, so he could never have her should he change his mind.'

Hades returned the very next day…then the next…and the next. Momentary peace meshing with his disappointment.

He felt a stab of intense irritation that his peace was interrupted by fumbling footsteps through the trees. The first time he had been disturbed. The footsteps stopped and he didn't turn, didn't acknowledge the intruder, closing his eyes and willing the person would flee in fear before he had to deal with it.

Fortune was never with him. In fact, he was certain Tyche, the Goddess of Luck, had made it her mission to withhold it from him. He turned, glancing behind him to the girl, standing across the opposite bank, dressed in a male's chiton that was too long for her, dark hair a ridiculous tangle around her face and down to her waist. It was an isolated place, deep in woods and far from the nearest village, and she was just perplexed at seeing him there as he was irritated that she had come.

He could kill a mortal. It would be easy. Snap the pathetic insect like a twig.

* * *

Kore stared, mind blank, unsure if she was hallucinating.

None came to her grove. Not unless her mother allowed it. And definitely not anything that wasn't a river nymph.

She was sure the person wasn't real until he turned and looked at her. Looked at her as if she were poison, and she knew she had made a terrible mistake on being there.

Her anxiety spiked, her feet readying to flee back into the trees from where she had come, glancing briefly for her escape route behind her shoulder. When she turned back he had gone. One minute, the being was standing under the boughs of her tree, and then nothing. As if he had melted in shadows. She was hallucinating, confused, her aching head forming images. She was sure of it. She rubbed at her tired eyes, needing to get home perhaps, turning away and slamming into a solid mass.

She gasped in shock, eyes flying open to furious shards of flashing silver, the human towering over her, ready to crush her into tiny pieces. The scream died in her throat, immediately throwing her arms over her head to protect herself, the terror deafening her.

Nothing happened. For what felt like an age.

Her mind was playing tricks. The last shred of her sanity disintegrating. She would open her eyes and there would be nobody there. She inhaled sharply, peeking between fingers, and was terribly wrong.

He hadn't vanished.

He remained a mountain over her.

Her panic remained, kept her frozen, staring at him.

She knew this was a man. She had never seen one. Not as close as he was. But she could make a deduction in her head, putting the pieces of the many stories of nymphs together.

He was different from her. Different from her minders. From her mother. From anyone who had been near her.

What struck out the most was how there was something ageless about him. It confused her. And the look on his face was something Kore couldn't quite decipher…there was a madness still there. She was sure of it. But it was quieter. Extraordinary grey eyes travelled over her, head tilting down towards her, studying her like she was an unusual creature. His hand reached out and grasped her wrist, tugging at her arm. She whimpered, terror spiking, as he forced her hands from her face. She tugged back, a desperate attempt to free her wrist from a grasp that was iron.

He pulled her closer, the fingers of his other hand moving towards her face.

She was going to die.

She closed her eyes tight.

And felt nothing but fingertips moving across her eyebrow, ghosting down her eyelid, stopping on the bone of her cheek, following the trail of her scar that marred her face.

'Who are you?' he asked, voice impossibly deep.

She keened.

'Stop crying.'

She swallowed hard and stopped the pathetic noise, though tears continued the trek down her cheeks.

'Answer me, little one.'

She bit her lip, whispering so low she didn't hear herself over the pounding of her heart. 'K…Kore.'

His hand moved to her chin, tilting her head up. 'Open your eyes.'

It was immediate. So ingrained in her to be obedient. And he demanded it. She opened her eyes back to a silver gaze that studied her eyes. Her hated eyes. The blue identical to her mothers, and the strange, dark one that enraged her. That she had attempted to remove; Kore's memory of terrible agony. The scar the strange man had traced.

'Please,' she pleaded, tugging ineffectually to free herself. 'I promise I won't come back here. I promise. I'll leave you be.'

He ignored her. He just continued to stare at her as she made him promises, hoping she would say something he wanted to hear, that would make his titan fingers release from her wrist.

So utterly unsure of what she needed to do, on what she could do, she frantically reached into her satchel hanging from her waist and closed her fingers around anything, thrusting it towards him.

He blinked at her, and then down at her hand, to what she presented.

A honey cake.

'It's all I have,' she explained, voice shaking. 'Are you hungry?'


	8. Chapter 8

_Hey team! Enjoy chapter 8!_

 _I've been suffering from work..._

 **Chapter 8**

 ** _Do you know she cut out her eye when she was a babe? Because she did not like the colour of that one, so out she cut it._**

'…Are you hungry?'

Hades blinked from his contemplation, looked down at her hand. Some sort of round bread held out to him in offering, the smell of sweet dough blending with the stink of fear. Through his sudden discomfort, he felt a spark of amusement.

It was an interesting attempt for him to release her. The doe girl with her striking eyes.

Yet he was… uncertain.

It was a feeling he wasn't accustomed to.

There was no sudden realisation, instant self-awareness, no collision of recognition between them. Nothing. It didn't reek of prophecy. She didn't even have an iota of power he could sense.

She was just a girl next to a river who had accidently stumbled across a god.

He loosened fingers that had become so tight, he was sure he would crush bone. But refused to release her completely. He had to be sure. His entire life relied on that intuition.

How could one judge the dead without that?

How could one find a queen without that…?

 ** _Pretty girl. Pretty girl with her pretty eyes. You see, one was like hers, while the other is dark as night. As dark as your realm. She didn't like that eye, so out it must come! Because they need to be like hers. A replica of her beauty is what she wanted in a daughter._**

Her free hand moved closer to his person, eyes silently pleading for him to take her offering and free her. A spark of something other than fear flashed through those eyes.

A strength, even in the hold of something way stronger than she. Even curiousity.

'It's good,' she assured, voice shaking. 'Though, a little stale. I made them – ,'

'Whom do you belong?'

Her brows furrowed in confusion.

It was too much. His patience teetering on a precipice. He tugged her forward, snarling into her face, 'Are you inept?'

She flinched at his tone, dropping the bread by his feet.

'I…don't know. I'm not sure what that means.'

'Inept. Simple-minded. Stupid!'

It was at that moment, he wished he had control of his temper.

It was like watching the withering of a flower, the tiny spark of that wonderment vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. Her free arm fell to her side, the other he held going limp, shoulders, which had been so tense, wilting downward.

She nodded, lifeless eyes moved from his face to look at the ground.

Hades felt a twinge of shame. He had struck something raw in her unthinkingly.

He released her wrist.

She didn't look up. She didn't flee either. Her fingers started circling in her chiton, the skirt bunching around thighs brown from the sun. And she just looked…exhausted.

Hades swallowed, bending down to grasp the fallen cake, straightening again and brushing dirt from it. Careful to make his movements less inexplicable. His power, his age, made his synapses fire in a way that made others feel uncomfortable and vulnerable if they weren't used to witnessing it. Made movement too quick, too precise, despite his size.

'Did you make it?'

She nodded once.

He sniffed it once, 'Honey is my favourite.' He placed it in his mouth and ate. He was ravenous, and it was perfect.

Her gaze lifted, watching as he swallowed. And he could look at her properly, detect those tiny details that he hadn't earlier when his impatience, his anger, his uncertainty, made him blind.

She had a great deal of hair, dark brown, and had been uncut for her life he assumed. Long, fine hands that weren't clean. A constellation of light freckles across her nose. Eyes that were too large for a face that was all angles, smudges of dark colour under them. He was suddenly wondering if she found sleeping as difficult as he.

She wasn't beautiful as Aphrodite was beautiful, that perfection that befuddled the senses. The only word he could think of when to describe her sylphlike features was unearthly. She could disappear into mist and light, and he would remain tied to the mud and dirt.

He needed to change tactic.

'I apologise for my temper.'

She nodded again, but looked unconvinced.

'It was good,' he continued.

Nothing changed in her mood, but she did finally speak. 'I need to go.'

'Where?'

Her answers were blunt, instinctive. 'Home.'

'Where is home?'

Fingers continued to twist, watching as her lip disappeared into her mouth to bite.

'I would know if you lie.'

She believed him. He could read it on her face. She pointed up the river.

'With who?'

'My…my mother.'

He felt muscles go tight. 'Demeter?'

Surprise flitted across her face, and he knew before she spoke. 'You know my mother?'

His eyes closed, relief flowing through his limbs, loosening the tension.

He could see it. As clearly as if he had witnessed it himself. Demeter would have found some child, changed it into a tree in front of Zeus and others so they wouldn't question it. Forget that the child even existed. And Demeter would have kept her here, trapped, unaware of who or what she was. It was brilliant, and sick, and just what he would expect his sister to be capable of.

'More than you would ever know, Persephone.'

'I don't know what Perse…Persephone is.'

He opened his eyes, looked at her again. 'It's your name.'

She frowned, shaking her head. 'No it's not. My name is Kore.'

He shook his head, stepped closer, 'Your name is Persephone.'

She looked at him as if he had lost his mind, those eyes flashing in anger. 'No, it's not!'

So changeable. It was in that instant he felt it, a glimmer of something immortal. 'A thousand years ago, I was fighting in a battle that was…exhausting. Long and terrible,' he said, ignoring her bewilderment, telling her something he hadn't acknowledged for years. 'My siblings and I had escaped a prison of my father's creation, and we were determined to destroy him. I was trapped with Demeter in that prison. And then I fought alongside her. I know how her mind works. Of what she was capable of, how cruel she could be if she felt threatened. How she could convince those around her to do what was in her best interests. How she whispered in our mother's ear to get her to persuade Zeus, your father, to send me to the underworld so I wouldn't take a throne she so craved, and how angry she would have been that your father decided not to have her. She holds so _tightly_ to those that worship her.'

Her face went pale, looking sick and more confused, mouth opening and closing. 'My…mother...my mother is not cruel. I don't have a father. She told me that.'

'How can one not have a father?'

'Because she told me!'

'Can you leave this place? How tight is her hold, little one?'

'I am not...don't call me that! My name is Kore! Not little one, not Persephone, it's Kore!'

'Do you know what you're capable of? You are a goddess.'

'Stop talking,' she whimpered, clutching her temples. 'My head hurts.'

Hades ignored her, he wanted to continue. To admit something aloud because he knew she didn't understand him, couldn't judge or think less of him, 'I've been isolated for so long. Made secret offerings to a higher power to find you. But what is a higher power than the gods? Than you?'

The girl snapped, suddenly threw her hands forward, pushing him in the chest hard enough to force him to step back, and she flew from him. Hades didn't pursue her. He was distracted by the strange sound coming from across the river. The keening of some creature in terrible pain. The rustling of leaves from behind him made him turn again, the smell of rot hitting him just as a ball of black feathers came towards him from the low shrubs. A crow, half eaten by scavengers, pulling itself with a broken wing and leg, a beak cawing pathetically. Across the river, the bones of what Hades suspected belonged to a fox dragged itself towards the bank. Three fish carcasses, all at different stages of decomposition, throwing themselves from the river at his feet.

Wanting him to free them from his queen's capability.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Kore lay on her back in the shallows of the river, the current of the water drifting her hair around her body in dark tendrils, wet linen weighing heavy across her body.

It had taken her several days to build the courage to leave her home. Now she was outside, spending her time chastising herself for being so stupid.

He wasn't coming back for her.

The first night, after she had fled from him, she curled on the floor where she slept, back pressed against the wall and forced herself to remain awake no matter how exhausted she was.

She wouldn't leave. She jumped at every sound, convinced that the unfamiliar, petrifying man would find her. Tell her his lies and things she didn't understand, confuse her, hold onto her too tight. The blue marks around her wrist were only just starting to fade yellow.

As the days passed, she tried to convince herself that perhaps the strange man would not return for her. Nevertheless, she remained in the house, spent her hours cleaning and cooking, trying to distract herself from contemplating over and over what the man had said about her, about her mother. Wishing that Demeter would return.

She eventually allowed herself to sleep. Though it was broken and troubled, full of strange dreams of her fleeing. She was terrified, running, and hands reached out for her and desperately grabbed at her arms, ankles, hair, even around her neck. And then he was there, ahead of her like he had been waiting. He lifted his hand, gesturing for her to go to him before the hands would drag her down.

She would wake, heart pounding, shift damp from her sweat and sticking to her skin, feeling more drained.

She never reached him. But every night she was certain she ended up closer.

The only thing that drew her from the house was the lack of water, peering into the last, empty hydriai with a stab of nervous alarm.

Now she was surrounded by it. She could become a part of it. Drift to the sea. With its vastness and beauty, she would be inconsequential.

She trilled her fingers across the water surface before pushing herself up, water pouring down her legs from her soaking chiton. She didn't turn to liquid with it.

She walked to the bank, tugging her chiton off and draping it on the nearest rock. Twisting her hair to let loose any excess water, she then curled it into a messy knot at the base of her neck.

She wanted to walk. Keeping her feet bare as she moved through grass that had started going brown from the heat.

The flowers were still so beautiful though.

It didn't take her long to have arms full of larkspur, lily, rose, violet, iris, crocus, even lily. Sweet scented fragrance. Warm air. The buzz of insects. Perhaps she would sleep and not have her nightmares. Her gaze drifted across the soil until she saw them; the most perfect cluster of narcissus, shockingly white they glowed, the bright yellow trumpet of each like each flower's sunlight. It made her cluster as impressive as straw.

They were mesmerising.

She placed what she had gathered down on the ground before making her way up the rise towards them, eyes fixed.

They were situated in a circle where nothing else grew, as if someone had picked every blade of grass around so they were framed, and she felt the tickle of something unnerving in the back of her mind.

She knelt down, reaching out, fingers curling around one of the stems and snapping it. She brought it to her face, the perfect bloom, letting the petals brush across a cheek, across her eyelid, down her scar.

Her eyes flew open when the ground under her knees trembled violently. Falling forward, her narcissus crushed under her hand as another tremor sent shockwaves through her body so hard that if she was standing, she would have been thrown. She watched in horror as a great crack rent the earth, shooting towards her.

She scrambled back, a scream dying in her throat, turning and desperately trying to climb to her feet. Instead, she could only manage a mad crawl as the ground shook, the thundering of hooves in her ears.

She felt a grip of iron clamp around her waist before she could see what it was, and she was hauled in the air like she weighed nothing, slammed against something so solid the air was stolen from her lungs. She gasped, her fingers gripping cold metal. A scramble of her digits trying to find something to hold onto as the ground jerked under her feet, seeing stars, and then everything went dark.

* * *

Hades tugged his horses back around, back towards where he had opened the earth, letting them plunge forward into darkness. A wave of his arm, and the earth closed behind him, trapping them both.

Persephone didn't make a sound, he was sure he may have shocked her into unconsciousness. He kept his grip like a vice around her waist, throwing half his cloak over her near nakedness as his horses continued their mad gallop. Down and down, Hades concentrating on forming the earth and rock into a pathway into his realm, careful not to let his horses slip and be harmed.

It always felt like an age, and finally they broke through the last of it. He tugged his horses sharply, hooves sliding in mud. They snorted, stomped hooves, and Hades ignored them. Ignored Kharon who climbed from his boat, pulled himself up the bank by balancing on his barge pole to take the reins. Breathing hard, still trying to comprehend what had happened, Hades placed Persephone's feet onto the floor and turned her so that she leant on the crossbar of his chariot, pushing her wild hair from her face to see her.

She wasn't unconscious.

She was shaken, her skin that was not wrapped in linen around her chest and the junction of her thighs was covered in goose-bumps and visibly trembling. Her eyes, wild and terrified, locked onto his. And then she fell forward and threw up down the front of his armour.

'Shhh,' he hushed when she sobbed, pushing her hair behind her ears as she tried to turn to see where she was, his hands keeping her facing him.

'Oh…gods!' she whimpered, tears flooding down her cheeks. 'Mama…where…where am…'

He ignored her, his fingers still stroking her hair back, a mimic of how Hestia used to calm him.

It was strange having her. Strange to have the silence, the lack of the voices plaguing him, when he was so close to the shades he had to judge. Marvelling at it.

Persephone slapped at his hands and jerked around. Saw nothing but grey mud, the explosion of water where the Styx crashed into the Lethe before dumping into the Acheron that imprisoned them, the scattering of tall poplars and willows against the banks, the dull glow of the Phlegethon that flowed sluggishly on their other side. She tilted her head up to follow the black, marble spires that made up his home.

There was no sun.

She made a raw, pained moan, her body slumping across one of his arms that caged her against the front of his chariot. His free hand returned to her temple, tangling into her damp locks, a thumb wiping tears.

'I know you won't understand what I'm saying to you,' he murmured quietly, voice rough. 'You will understand what I have done, why I have done this. I promise you this. This is my realm. I am Hades, Ruler of the Dead, King of the Underworld. It was fated long before you were born that you would be my consort. My queen.' His thumb circled.

She keened again, the grip on his arm loosening, her knees giving way until she was curled up at the base of his chariot as she wept for her mother.

Hades tugged his cloak off, throwing it over her shoulders before scooping an arm under her knees, around her back and pulling her up against him. She didn't react. She was distraught, her fingers tangled in her mouth as she moaned the same pained note over and over.

He carried her up the steps towards the door that opened to no command, stepping into the darkness of his hall.

And she went mad, as if her panic had suddenly just registered.

She twisted so violently, nails like talons against his cheek, wailing so loudly it echoed through his hall. 'Noooo, please. I'm sorry. Don't keep me here! Not in the dark! _Pleeeeeeaaaase_!'

Her manner was so desperate he was momentarily stunned. It was beyond terror. Beyond anything that had to do with him. She continued to thrash wildly, her elbow slamming into his chin with such force that he dropped her, her head connecting to black marble with a sharp crack.


	10. Chapter 10

_Christmas is a crazy time..._

 _I liked writing this chapter, particularly shaping Hecate's character. I do like Hecate...and she'll get better, so have faith. Jealousy is a hell of a beast :)_

 _Thanks everyone for the reviews. I do appreciate it._

 **Chapter 10**

Hecate lifted an eyelid, and then the other.

Blue followed by black. Strange.

Non-responsive.

She looked over the half-naked girl that had intruded on her domain. Thrust onto her own bed by Hades, demanded by him that she look after her, as blood seeped from a wound on the back of her head onto Hecate's furs.

She straightened, turned to Hades who sat rigid on her kline, bent forward with an elbow on his knee.

It was peculiar having him in her home. No matter how often she dreamt of it, he had never come. Now…she felt invaded. She couldn't put her finger on it. Perhaps he took too much space? Or was it the fact he brought a stranger with him?

His gaze was locked on the girl. One of his hands flexed and released, and every so often he closed his eyes and the tenseness in the angles of his face would relax.

'I took her,' he muttered.

'Took her?'

'I took her from sunlight.'

Hecate stared at him, slightly numb, 'And then struck her over the head?'

His gaze remained on the girl, his voice low and flat, as if he still couldn't comprehend what was happening. As if he was too distracted. 'No. She went wild, and she fell…I dropped her.'

Hecate's own hands curled into fists so that her nails buried into her palm until it stung. 'But you stole her?'

Finally, those eyes turned, but they looked straight through her. 'You can't steal what belongs to you.'

Hecate shook her head. 'She's flesh and blood. She doesn't belong to anyone.'

Hades didn't answer her for some time, but his gaze focussed, a fire suddenly burning through them. 'You're wrong. She took souls from my domain, brought them back to their rotting bodies. She cheated death. She cheated _me_!' He let out a bark of laughter, the sound so foreign to Hecate that it shocked her to her very bones, just as unfamiliar as the wry smile that broke across his face.

Her fingers tangled and untangled together, and then she started moving, limbs automatic, pulling familiar, clay pots out from her shelves. Knowing exactly where to find what in her chaos. Yarrow, calendula, stop the bleeding. Lavender oil, rubbed into temples to stop aching in the skull. Perhaps peppermint in a tea later. Vinegar to dip a strip of linen in.

If the girl was a goddess, she would heal. She should heal.

 _Pathetic_.

Jealousy was wicked. She tried to tell herself she was above it…but it dumped out like stagnant filth in her stomach. Seirios lifted his head and whined low, plaintive, a mirror to Hecate's sudden feeling of dejection. She glanced at her hound, and noticed that Hades had stood from the kline and was standing by the bed, staring down at the girl.

'What's her name?' Hecate asked finally, voice hollow.

'Persephone.'

* * *

Kore moaned, forcing eyes open, feeling as if they were stuck together with tree sap. Still she couldn't focus. A vision of people, a deer, a hound, a splash of red, swum above her. She closed her eyes again.

Then she felt the soft touch on her temples, the smell of something smoky and sweet, the tang of vinegar, reaching her nostrils.

She was running through the darkness, terror seizing her heart. A hand wrapped around her wrist, around her thigh, but she wrenched herself free and ran harder. She had to escape. She couldn't breathe.

She collided with the solid body, looked up, saw mercury.

There was an indecipherable intensity to his gaze, full of history and greatness. There was none of the anger that she was used to, even after barrelling into him. He turned, square to her, and lifted a hand, palm up, and became still.

No grabbing or snatching at her flesh. Just a silent offering.

He murmured something she couldn't grasp as her hand hesitantly reached out, her index finger touching a line on his palm and following it. His hand was rougher than hers. And _warm_.

Too entranced by the calluses, she twitched when the fingers of his other hand touched the swell of her hip, swept slowly into the dip of her waist, the fabric of her chiton following so it gathered up a thigh. She jerked her fingers away from his palm, her gaze flicking to his.

He wasn't looking at her face. Smoky eyes were fixed on where his hand, impossibly warm, clutched at her waist, fingers flexing.

She gasped, swaying away. 'That tickles.'

He didn't release her. He stepped closer, nostrils flared, the fire in his eyes something her mind couldn't decipher, but something her body seemed to recognise.

She felt her skin flush.

'Will you show me?' he murmured, his head tilting down to a point she felt the warmth of his breath on her heated cheeks.

'S-show you what?'

His free hand came up towards her, the pad of a thumb running carefully along her bottom lip.

Warmth twisted through her stomach.

His silver gaze turned to liquid, the tip of his thump slipping into her mouth when she exhaled sharply, and pressing down on the flat of her tongue, 'What you are made of, little one…'

Clawing her way to consciousness again, swimming through thick oil, her eyes opening again to an image of men hunting a stag on a ceiling.

She blinked, trying to focus. It was some sort of…picture, drawn on rock. She pushed herself up, her gaze moving around the room without seeing anything, terror twisting up her insides into a knot. Fingers touched at the back of her head where it had connected with the floor, wrapped now in linen.

A firestorm of grief and confusion tore at her.

He had taken her. Buried her in darkness. She had been taken from Gaia and dragged away. To a place that felt too heavy, the air stale and cold, and the overwhelming feeling that she was underground.

She sat for moments. Or it could have been an age. Too numb, too exhausted. Despite that, a steady stream of fluid dripped from her eyes as if her tears would never, ever stop.

 _Nobody is here. Move. Move, Kore. Run_

Her internal pleas woke her, helped by the intense cold, icy tendrils wrapped around the bare skin of her arms, across a shoulder where the thin shift she was in had slipped down. She swallowed hard and pushed fur from her legs so that same cold touched them, and finally looked around.

She was in some sort of cave, walls, ceiling, and floor made from stone. Despite that, there was no doubt that it was a home chaotically packed with…things.

A small couch, braziers of flame that did little to warm the room, some sort of animal fur covering half the floor with stacks of parchment scattered across it, an open pit filled with old ashes where an iron pot swung over it. One of the walls were made of shelves, filled with more strange items. A jumble of wooden boxes, rolls of papyrus, sheafs of parchment, jars, wooden dolls and clay figurines, amphorae filled with peacock feathers and sticks that were salt-white. There was one table with just as much disordered clutter; skulls from various creatures, a bronze bowl overflowing with colourful stones.

Her gaze darted around the strange room to make sure what her mind had not tricked her. That some dark figure hid in shadowy corners. She willed her courage to not fail.

Bare feet touched ground, she pushed herself up on shaky limbs, and she stumbled towards anything to hold onto. Reaching out, one hand grasping the edge of the shelf, the other falling unceremoniously into a clay bowl filled with orange paste. She recoiled, trying to get her eyes to focus on what had made her fingers sticky.

 _Keep going..._

Wiping the offending digits on the unfamiliar clothing, she moved, keeping herself upright by sheer determination as the room twisted.

A narrow passage. A dull glow. An exit. And she found herself in a forest of dead trees and no sky.

'I wondered what you would do.'

Kore spun, heart in her throat, and the world spun with her. She stumbled to the side, falling into freezing mud.

A woman knelt on a rock next to the mouth of the cave Kore had come from, skin and hair so pale she almost glowed. Sitting next to her was a hound that was almost her opposite, her white fingers tangled in its black fur. And on her other side, another girl hovered. Something undeniably recognisable.

A nymph.

Hope bloomed in her chest, deliriously reaching out to her. 'Please…I need…' she slurred.

The white woman on the rock turned, murmuring to her. 'Go get Thanatos, Minthe. He will help you with her.'

Kore whimpered as the nymph darted off. The cold and wet was seeping down to her bones, and her teeth started clattering together.

'I thought you would just sit there and weep for your mother. You cried out often for her while you lay in bed. I was beginning to feel quite uninspired.'

Kore could hear the white woman, but her head pounded and she tried to push herself upright.

'Regardless, I don't see anything special about you. You look,' the woman paused, lip curling. 'Pathetically weak. You a _re_ weak, aren't you?'

Kore was too cold.

The woman climbed up, and then appeared to float across the ground, the linen of her peplos not sliding through, hem spotless. Her hound kept close to her side, his lip quivering up canines that were as long as Kore's thumb. The woman came close to her. 'Oh for the sake of the goddess!' the woman spat. 'Stop crying!'

Kore couldn't even feel it.

The woman knelt down, reaching out and grasping Kore by the chin and tilting her eyes up to hers.

Kore noticed that they were a pretty colour…like violet. But they looked…

'Why are you sad?' Kore whispered.

The woman flinched slightly, her fingers releasing from her chin as if she burnt her.

'Did you g-get t-taken too?'

The woman's mouth tightened slightly, 'No.'

Suddenly, Kore's muddy hand circled the woman's wrist, leaving streaks of black mud on skin so pale. 'P-please. I need to go home.'

The woman tugged ineffectually to try and get Kore to release her. And she refused to let her go. Even if she was a figment of her imagination, she wouldn't let the snow spirit go.

'Tell me how t-to leave!'

The woman stopped pulling, staring into her eyes, her white brows furrowing. 'I…I can't help you. Hades wouldn't…' the woman swallowed, the look of pain flashing through those flower eyes. A noise in the trees made her glance up, and then back down at her. She turned the tides, grasping Kore's own wrists. 'I will give you something, scared mouse. Whatever you do, do not eat the food of the dead…the fruit of the underworld. You will be forever bound to this domain. Promise me, Persephone!'

Kore flinched at that name, and the woman released her as the nymph and another stepped from the trees.


	11. Chapter 11

_Hey all! New chapter! And it's just getting juicy._

 _Enjoy ^_^_

 **Chapter 11**

The strange, silent, tall creature that had covered his face with a hooded cloak pulled her vicelike grip from the pale spirit's arm, the only thing she could see was the glint of his eyes.

Kore was too numb to feel further terrorised of the new stranger who pulled her upright. And it hadn't taken her long to realise that her pleas had fallen on deaf ears with the woman, there was little belief left in her that anyone else would listen.

The strange creature pulled her forward to where the nymph, Minthe, stood holding a burning torch, shuffling nervously. She turned away, leading them through a maze of white trunks.

Kore stumbled slightly in her need to get to that halo of golden light, the stranger hauling her upright again by the back of her shift before she fell again. She heard the fine fabric tear along her shoulder.

'Watch where you step, girl. I don't want to bathe in mud to fish you out again.' The voice was rough, gravelly.

She knew it wasn't the beast that had dragged her away. The first thing she had noticed was that he was smaller across the shoulders. The second was the dark swirls and lines drawn across the back of the hand that was curled around her arm to keep her upright and moving. Pictures on his skin in blue.

'Please…' she whispered. 'Where am I?'

She didn't care who she was asking anymore. Minthe glanced over her shoulder, frowning at her in confusion, but kept the pace.

'Domos Hadou,' the cloaked figure finally answered as he guided her.

She didn't know what the tall creature meant, and she knew it wouldn't matter if she asked. She felt they would not answer her again. Or she was just too tired to ask anything else.

She felt desolate, a flood of thoughts racing to the forefront of Kore's mind, smashing together into a mess.

Nothing stuck. Just the desolation.

They stepped from trees, feet finding firm surface of stone, heading towards a bridge over a dark river.

Water.

All rivers led somewhere. A liquid path.

She reached out, hand against the stone ledge and halted, looking down to the silvery surface. Sacrificed the light as the nymph kept walking.

'Where does it lead?'

The cloaked one stopped when she stopped. 'The Lethe? It flows with the waters of Mnemosyne and then empties into the Acheron, like all the rivers.'

She didn't reply. Instead, she stored it away.

Treasured knowledge.

* * *

It had taken days. It felt as if they stretched infinitely before him. Occasionally the foreign feeling of anxiety tugged at him. Wondering what she would do when she woke. Perhaps she would strike him? Would she weep?

His sleep was restless.

His mood was _foul._

Hades kept to the Hall of Judgement and distracted himself with dealing with the dead, despite not hearing their pleas cluttering his mind. He listened to them babble a defence, pray to him for mercy. He still _knew_ where they had to go. Tartarus, Asphodel, Asphodel, Mourning Fields, Asphodel, Tartarus…branded into his being. He was Hades. He was the rock and the mud and the fire.

What was he doing?

'She's awake.'

Hades blinked, turned his head, saw Hecate standing close to his seat. He hadn't heard her. The three judges had also decided against warning him, heads bent over their work rather than facing his wrath, ignoring them.

'What?'

'Persephone. She woke up.'

Hades pushed himself to his feet. Hecate looked distracted, as if her eyes were looking straight through him.

'Where is she?'

'She tried to escape. That was what she decided to do when she woke.' She shook her head, frowning, fingers on one hand rubbing absently at a dark streak of mud on her wrist.

Hades' silver eyes hardened, reached out and grasped her shoulder and shaking her slightly. She blinked, finally saw him.

'Where is she?'

Her frown deepened, 'I'm guessing heading to your chamber. Where else would Thanatos take her?'

Hades released his grip from her shoulder.

'You have no other place for her to go. What are you hoping to do with her, anyway? She asked to go home to her mother. What have you done? Why did you do this?'

Hades felt that twist of apprehension. Followed quickly by anger. Angry because he didn't know the answers himself. And he didn't need a lecture from her. His mouth twisted and he spun on his heel, moved down the dais and out of the Hall of Judgement without looking back at her, marching to the room he hadn't returned to for days. Because why would you go there if one couldn't sleep?

He pushed open the doors with a little more force than necessary.

The girl didn't even flinch when thick wood crashed into a wall.

The nymph did. Thanatos' turned towards him, face still hidden within his hood, his tattooed hands curling tightly by his side.

She was made of stone.

It disrupted him that they were all within his chamber, his solitude now full of bodies.

He stepped to the side, breath heavy, pointing to the door.

'Get out,' he grit out.

The nymph darted past him before he finished. Thanatos stepped towards Persephone, to lead her out. She didn't even look at him, didn't even react when inked fingers closed around her arm

'She stays,' Hades barked.

Thanatos turned to him, bowed once, and left, closing the door silently behind him.

The fire in the hearth behind the girl lit up the outline of her slight body through the thin linen shift she wore, mud stained down the front and her legs, her forearms. The fabric of her shift fell down one shoulder, a slash of brown skin and an angled collarbone, and she remained frozen.

He had never thought of one that could become mist, but he was almost convinced that she could. Ethereal, eyes fever bright.

He stepped towards her, studying her face, her eyes, the dark shadows under them, the tangled web of dark hair that fell across a cloth wrapped forehead.

It wasn't uncommon for gods to lose their minds. He had seen it. He was certain he had broken once.

It was frighteningly easy to fall into madness for those that persistently existed and endured.

'Persephone?'

Her shoulders jerked slightly from that, eyes flickered.

'Where have you gone?' he murmured, touching the back of his fingers to her cheek. Her skin was ice.

'I'm here.'

Her whisper surprised him, as a tear trekked down her cheek. Her extraordinary eyes focussed on him. 'I would really like to go home…'

Hades' head tilted slightly, wiping her tear away carefully. 'You are freezing. I apologise, my realm is cold.'

Her chest heaved as she took a shaking breath, her voice so quiet it was nearly incomprehensible, 'My mother would worried about me. If she doesn't find me…she will be frightened.'

'Are _you_ frightened?'

The girl took another breath, and stilled again, her eyes darting around the chamber. Flicked over his bed, the kline close to the fire, shelves dug into stone filled with tied spines of books, down to her filthy fingers that curled and uncurled in an endless mantra. Nothing kept her gaze for long…until she looked at the wall across from them, above the fire, the stone embedded with thousands and thousands of shining stones. Set into patterns of the constellations that Hades remembered.

She didn't answer.

'You should bathe and then rest. We will talk when you wake.' He gestured towards the small antechamber across his room.

She didn't move. Didn't notice where he pointed.

'Persephone?'

'That isn't my name.' Automatic. Dull.

Not defeated, but distracted by those constellations.

Hades pressed his lips together, his patience hanging by a precipice, but he wouldn't snarl at her. 'You should get warm.'

Nothing.

Swallowing a sigh, he reached out, watching her carefully in case she decided to strike him, and ran his hand across her covered shoulder, dragging linen across her skin so that it slipped down her arm. Fabric pooled at her feet.

Her breath didn't even catch, those bi-coloured eyes didn't blink, no shiver spread across naked skin. Her bare skin meant nothing to her. Why would it? Her mother had locked her away, kept her separated from all the splendour and depravity of the beings of Gaia.

Equally it meant nothing to him.

She was a shell. Where was the woman who had pushed him, slapped him away, forced souls back into their rotted bodies?

Reaching down, he scooped her up in his arms.

Gasping, she gripped at the fabric covering his chest tightly.

'You weren't focussing,' he explained, moving towards the other door, down a freezing corridor, to where he bathed. A pool of steaming water, continually filling by a waterfall flowing down the far wall, and overflow over the lowest edge of the pool and directed back on its course. He placed her feet on the ground, watching her toes curl on the cold marble.

'Water flows close to the Phlegethon, and is guided here, so it is hot,' he said, not sure if she understood, or even cared, what he was saying to her.

He reached behind her head, untangled the knot of her bandage. She smelt like smoky lavender. He unwound the fabric and tangled his fingers in dark strands of hair to check where her head had connected with the floor. The wound had closed. No additional scars.

She was so thin he could see the outline of each individual vertebrate down her spine. His gaze caught a long-healed burn on the middle of her back.

He found himself wondering where it had come from.

Instead, he pushed her towards the edge of the bath.

'Wash. It will warm you.'

She stumbled forward, stepping down, a hissed intake of breath at the heat of the water, and Hades left her.


	12. Chapter 12

_Hey all._

 _Don't fret, I'm determined to finish this story...I think I was over-ambitious of my time and energy._

 _Thanks to all the reviewers and followers. They do keep me motivated!_

 _Particular shout out to **Madame Thome** ^_^. You rock_

 **Chapter 12**

Zeus drifted in and out of consciousness, feeling slight discomfort when he felt the weight of another roll on top of him. Groaning, hands lifting up to smooth skin, fingers mapping the contours of a body familiar to him. Feeling Hera sit up by pressing against his shoulders with her legs straddling his waist, he opened his eyes, a slow grin stretching across his face. Much to his delight, his enticing wife had decided to forgo clothing.

'Mmmm,' he mumbled, pleased…much more pleased about being roused, stretching one arm behind his head while the other lazily cupped her breast, his hand several shades browner compared to her pearlescent skin. For once, her hair had been loosened from the severe up do she was so fond of. Instead letting the sleek, fragrant locks fall around her shoulders, so black it put Nyx to shame. 'This is…pleasant.'

She smiled shyly back at him, large, amber eyes soft, pulling his hand from her breast to press her lips against his palm, her hips swaying.

He closed his eyes, murmuring in tongues, desire out-warring his fleeting suspicion as she rocked against him again. He removed his arm from behind his head, hand kneading her hip, moving across her backside, fingers drifting further between each curve…

And something sharp pressed against his jugular.

Zeus sighed, eyes reopening, gaze dropping to the silver dagger pressed against his neck.

She was in one of her moods.

'Yes, my sweet?' he drawled.

Her softened gaze was now sharp, severe, yet it did little to hinder how breathtakingly exquisite his queen was. Why he had decided that she would be his for eternity, and why he remained determinedly hard even when she threatened to skewer him.

'Care to tell me about Ekho?' she asked through gritted teeth, voice as sharp as the blade that she pressed into his skin.

 _Fuck…_

'Ekho? Who is Ekho?'

'Don't lie to me!' she seethed, pressing deeper still until he felt the warmth of his blood, her nails of her other hand digging into the flesh of his chest.

Zeus exhaled with a sigh. She couldn't kill him; as much as he was sure she dreamed to. It was still excruciatingly painful to knit his skin back together after a good knife gauging. He wasn't particularly drawn to the idea of it occurring by her hands again.

Slowly, his hands returned to the smooth skin of her thighs. 'I don't know what you are talking about, sweet wife?'

'What did I say about lying!?' she snarled. So furious. Gods she was lovely. Eyes sparked, pink colouring her cheeks, delicate brows drawn together.

Zeus caressed her thighs, over her hips, drifting across a slim, gold chain she had decorated her waist with, inhaling the scent of lily drifting from her skin. 'I fear you may remove my head, so I am completely at your mercy. Lying is not in my best interests.'

'Who said I would be removing your _head_?'

He grinned at that, amused at her fury. But he was getting impatient, the need to bury himself inside her was undermining his tolerance for her jealousy. He swung his hand and batted the knife away before she could react. She jumped, a desperate scramble away from him, but he was faster and caught her with a handful of that hair, his other arm pulling her at her waist. Nose against the skin of her neck, tongue touching against a racing pulse.

'Don't touch me, you filthy dog!' she squealed, hands pushing at him, writhing, nails sharp against the skin of his back as he chuckled. 'I despise you! Get your hands off me!'

'I love it when you fight me, feral wife,' he growled, forcing his mouth on hers, trapping her arms to her body and caging her to him.

She responded by biting hard, the copper taste of his own blood hitting his tongue as he jerked away in surprise. He grinned, licking metal tang against his lip before resuming his attack. Kissing her harder, pressing deeper with his tongue.

She finally wrenched herself away, gasping for a breath. 'Do you know what I did to her?'

Zeus paused his planned attack on her mouth, puzzled about what she was referring to momentarily. Only momentarily. His grip tightened around her, 'What did you do, Hera?'

She smiled, a cruel twist of her swollen lips. 'Your Ekho. So irritating _,_ so deceiving with that tongue, lying to me as you do, distracting me while you _fuck_ all her friends!'

Zeus' eyes narrowed.

She blinked innocently, her cruel smile unwavering. 'She now has no control over her tongue. Neither able to speak before anybody else has spoken, nor be silent when somebody else has speaks. No more power, her voice avail but for the briefest use. She'll be nothing but an empty voice!'

Disgusted at her, Zeus released her arms and pushed her off his lap. Hera tossed the curtain of black curls across a shoulder as she clambered to her feet, stalking away from him.

He grunted in annoyance, dragging himself from the bed, and dragging a chiton over his head. Sweet Ekho. So obedient. Keeping his snake wife distracted with her prattling so could sneak from his self-made prison and cold bed to be with the pretty Oreiad nymph…

 _What was her name?_

A loud crash and a pained shout from his main hall distracted him from his musings.

'GODS!' he shouted to the skies, marching from his room, annoyance making his blood boil. 'What now!?'

He stepped into his hall just as a vase was flung, smashing into the side of his head with so much force he momentarily saw stars, staggering to the side, his hand just managing to keep himself upright on one column that held his roof in place. He snarled in anger, felt the warmth of blood drip down his cheek, wildly searching for the culprit.

'Where is she?'

He turned to the sound of the voice, hand raised, ready to summon the lightening as it sparked along his fingertips.

And stopped.

'Demeter?' he muttered, confused at her presence. She never returned to Olympos. Not since she turned their child into a sapling. And last time he had walked Gaia to visit in an attempt to mend their difficult relationship, she threw him into a silo of wheat…where he sunk, crushed under the weight of the grain until his ribs collapsed and breathing was impossible.

He couldn't escape for months. Stuck in excruciating pain until the stupid mortals emptied the damn thing.

Demeter, her golden hair a tangle around her face, as if she had wildly pulled at it. Her blue eyes wild in her anger and desperation, the cream fabric of her peplos torn in some places. She had another vase in her hand, aimed at him, 'Where. Is. She?'

Zeus blinked to clear his vision, increasingly confused. A groan tore his gaze away from the Harvest Goddess towards the entrance of the hall. Ares was pinned to another column by roots, forced from the earth from his garden to impale the God of War in his stomach and a shoulder. Pinned because he probably tried to stop the outraged Goddess. Ares desperately tugged at one, the sounds of his pain bubbling in his throat as he coughed, more blood dribbling down his chin.

'What is this, Demeter?' Zeus seethed, feeling his fury reigniting again. A crackle of power between his fingertips again.

'Where is my daughter?' Demeter hissed, throwing the vase down so it crashed against the floor.

Zeus stepped cautiously to the side, circling, as more tree roots slipped through the doors of his hall from his garden, slithering and twisting like snake across marble towards them. He kept his gaze on her.

'Your daughter?'

'Yessss,' she hissed through her teeth, drawing it out in her rage, a vein in her neck pulsing. 'What have you done with her? With my baby! I know you did it! _I know it_!' She slammed her bare foot against the ground, the marble cracking on impact.

'Persephone?' he asked, confused, sure that was the only daughter Demeter had birthed... 'You have clearly lost your mind! You turned her into a fucking tree, you crazy whore!'

She jerked her hand towards him, and with it, one of her roots followed her command. He jerked to the side, narrowly missed having it skewered through his eye.

He straightened, narrowing his eyes at the woman, 'I'd be very careful, Demeter. You are testing my patience.'

'You will return her to me! You will _return_ her right now! She is mine!'

'I haven't touched her! You turned her into _tree!_ ' He repeated, enunciated every word slowly, talking as if she was inept. He squeezed his hands into fists.

'No she didn't.'

They both turned towards the voice, at Hera who was lounging on his throne, a smile on her face. As if she had been watching the performance. Her amber eyes drifted to where Ares was whimpering, the sound torture, unfazed.

Zeus felt the disgust roll through his stomach, felt the need to wrap his hands around his wife's neck. But Demeter was still desperate, still crazed, and she was more of a threat than his bitch queen. Still much more of a mother than his bitch queen. The parallel was not unnoticed.

'Clever Demeter,' Hera muttered, her cold gaze drifting over the blood that had started pooling beneath her son's feet. 'I should have kept my children from that son of a goat as well.' She flicked her fine fingers at Zeus.

Zeus' wrath fractured. He hand shot up, snapping his fingers and sent his lightning towards Demeter in a blinding flash. It struck her chest, flinging her into the far wall with a loud crack. She crumpled to the floor, her weapons falling with her.

He pointed at Hera, speaking through gritted teeth as he stalked towards the Harvest Goddess, 'I'll deal with you later, _sweet_ wife.'

Demeter pushed herself unsteadily to her knees, gasping to try and get air into her lungs. His strike had burnt through her peplos, caused her brown skin near her collarbone to char at the point of impact, the stench of burning flesh hitting his nostrils. He slapped her hands that she raised in a poor attempt to fend him off, and grabbed her by her arms, pinning them to her side. He hauled her up and slammed her against the wall, more marble cracking.

Fixing his throne room was going to be infuriating...

He pressed close, almost nose to nose, whispering coldly, 'Release him.'

Demeter whimpered, head lolling back against the marble, drool dripping down her chin. Her blue eyes, unhazy, drifted towards Ares and with a pained sob, she flicked her fingers. The roots jerked out, and his son fell forward with a grunt.

'Good girl,' he whispered. 'Now, what did you want to ask me, Deo?'

It was his name for her when they had conquered Iapetus. A name he gave her of endearment, when she was appealing, pleasing. When he was sure he loved her more than Hera.

But now…such hatred. It burned from every pore, sharp daggers from her eyes as she tried to focus on him.

With a jerk, she spat, the glob hitting him under his left eye.

He drew her back and slammed her against the marble again. And she laughed in his face. A crazed bark.

Zeus scowled, and threw her away from him, wiping her spittle from his face, watching as she climbed unsteadily to her feet. She knew she couldn't outmatch him…surely she knew.

She turned to him, her gaze cold, but a smile stretched across her face.

Zeus suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

Demeter dropped down in a sardonic bow, 'You will regret what you have done to me, Zeus Areios. This I promise you.'

She turned, limping away, and Zeus let her.

He glanced at his wife, who remained perched on his throne. Her chin in her hand, elbow resting on her crossed knee. Her smile was as twisted as Demeter's had been.

 _Women!_

'Tell me of the girl, Hera,' he snarled. 'I'm in no mood for your games, so don't push me!'


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

'You haven't been eating.'

Hades leant against the frame of his door, watched as Persephone flinched, stiffened her shoulders so they inched towards her ears. She had been skimming the shelves, one hand reaching out as if to pull out a rolled piece of parchment or touch a spine of a book, but had decided against it for an unknown reason.

She turned her head to look at him, colour tinging her cheekbones that almost looked as if they could cut ribbons, her face was so gaunt, but she remained silent.

Hades tilted his head slightly, studying that colour.

He was drawn to her. He couldn't deny it…not with any intense longing or hunger that a man may feel for a woman. There was a fascination similar to that of someone examining a caught insect in a jar. Or similar to that of one that felt the stirrings of drastic change.

He was intrigued by how she navigated her predicament. She slept at first, for the night and most of a day. He had found her in his bath, head resting in her crossed arms on the marbled edge, fast asleep. He had to carry her out as he had carried her in, her damp hair and body soaking his clothing.

Then…nothing. No tears, no screams, no angry words or threats. She didn't demand, cajole, or plead to either him or the nymph assigned to her care to be taken back to the Upperworld. She existed, doing all that a normal one did to endure. She washed, got dressed, brushed her hair, chewed laurel to clean her teeth and sweeten her breath, though all with considerably prodding from Orphne at times. Except she would not eat. Meals were ignored with a determination that Hades would have found impressive.

He had talked with her a few days after she woke, when she seemed…calm…to try and explain that she fit here. Yet, it was like explaining the complexities of a god's mind to an ant, and he had left her more confused and despondent than when he started. To the point that she was scratching at the skin on the back of her hand in her anxiety to the point that she drew blood. Hades had decided to stop, leaving the room, to return a few days later to try again. She did not engage with him though and her thoughts remained closed. Even to Orphne who she was obviously more at ease with than him. Yes, she answered most questions directed to her if they were impersonal and general. She listened with ardent concentration as well, which made him slightly uneasy, because he didn't know why and she never asked for explanation even if he knew she would be baffled over what he or Orphne said to her. It was like trying to decipher darkness and shadows on a blank wall.

At first it was aggravating. Hades could read most. And they generally divulged their failings or merits eventually without much encouragement, despite his intense disinterest in any of it.

Hades crossed the room and sat on his kline, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as she stood awkwardly, so tense he was sure she would shatter if something or someone touched her. It had been a long time since he had been this close to her.

He let his gaze wander across her thin frame. She was wearing a peplos that drowned her in fabric, very different from the chiton. There was a yearning in her gaze that wasn't disappearing with time, tightness around her eyes, and lips bitten, sometimes drawing blood. And whatever fat she had left was disappearing.

She was suffering. He could see it. Still, she persisted. Persephone was an enigma, and the riddle and contradictions and mystery became the appeal.

She was fond of white.

It made her skin look darker.

'Why are you not eating?' he repeated.

Her answer was a nervous shrug.

'You will not die from starvation.'

She gazed at the constellations, a favourite pastime, tensing further, and eyes sad. 'Yes, I know.'

The answer surprised him, strengthened his curiousity. 'Then why?'

She nibbled at her lower lip, wincing when her teeth caught a previous wound. 'One should not eat the food of the dead, else they get…stuck.'

One eyebrow rose slightly, 'Who told you that?'

The colour on her cheeks deepened, and she shrugged again, clamping her lips together.

'Tell me, little one.'

She shook her head, and that surprised him further. She was not one to refuse a demand. He sat up straight to sling an arm across the back of the kline, stretching a leg out in front of him. 'You seem enthralled by the written word. You're allowed to read them.' He nodded towards his shelves.

The change of subject seemed to throw her, as if she expected that he would demand with more fervour that she tell him her secrets. She looked at him again, clasping and unclasping her fingers as if she wasn't sure what to do with them.

Hades climbed to his feet, walked over and pulled one out. It was thick with pages, the parchment yellow with age and the cover indistinguishable. He held it out to her. 'It's the tale of Pandora.' At her puzzled expression, he continued. 'The first female mortal of Gaia. Zeus can be cruel when his pride is stung, and he created her to unleash pain and plague on his mortals. It's surprisingly accurate despite being written by a human…however I know how Psychopompos enjoys talking unconstrained about his deeds in the world of the mortals.'

She stared at him as if he was speaking a different language, but her curiousity moved her back towards him so she could reach out and grasp it from his hand. She opened the cover, frowning and so careful, with the book upside down.

'Can you not read?'

Persephone shot him another look that was difficult to decipher, and then shook her head. 'Not very well. My mother –,' she trailed off as if the word itself was a lance of poison. 'Not well,' she finally finished.

He hummed quietly, his head tilting slightly. 'I can teach you, if you wish.'

She did not look at him from her task of touching the page with her delicate fingers. 'Why?'

Stepping closer to her while she was so distracted, he turned the book in her hands the correct way. At first she believed that he was taking it back off her, and she hesitated to claim it again.

'They are interesting things. A book can be as dangerous as any voyage one might take, and you keep the knowledge within much better than any spoken story. Sometimes for the whole of your existence. You will never be the same from when you open the front cover to the time you read the last sentence.' He rubbed at the line of his jaw, his voice lowering to a murmur. 'You would be formidable with all this knowledge in addition.'

Persephone turned another page, trying to decipher the strange, squiggling lines. 'Why would you teach me then?'

'Why not?'

'I…don't know. I don't think -,' she paused, inhaling and exhaling loudly as if she was convinced. 'I won't be able.'

'I do not believe that. It would be quick to a mind willing to learn.'

She frowned at the page, unconvinced, but held it tightly still. She finally looked up at him, studying him as intently as he did her. He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, watched her gaze drop to where his throat bobbed.

'It is the _fruit_ of the dead that binds you to Domos Hadou. Not conventional food.'

'Why would I believe you?'

'I am not fond of tricks.'

'Just abduction?'

Her response jarred him, made unease pulse in his veins, which he squashed as quickly as it surged. He straightened, unaware that he had tilted down to be closer to her diminutive height. 'Perhaps,' he murmured. 'I expect you to eat, else you will grow weak. Then how will I teach you?' He paused, his gaze dropping to her mouth briefly. 'I promise you will not be bound to this place…not more than you already are anyway.' He stepped away from her, a safer distance, scrutinising the way the blood left her face, before turning and stalking from the room.

* * *

Kore watched him leave, her insides a jumbled mess of anguish and confusion. She glanced at the pages in her hands, only recognising a few of the letters. Demeter was often adamant that she learn, however never seemed to have the dedication or patience to finish many lessons, and grew tired of the game. Claiming instead that Kore was too dull-witted.

Her hands were shaking, so much that the leather tome dropped from her fingers with a thump, swallowing tightly.

 _You will not be bound to this place. Not more than you already are anyway._

She had tried to understand what Hades wanted, so that if she gave it to him, he would then have to let her go. But that was a bewildering riddle in itself. He told her stories of some prophecy from a Titan and she would nod and be more perplexed than before. So she tried to make him bored of her. Demeter often was. She didn't think it would be too difficult.

Hades was different. A completely unusual and bewildering being. More determined, intense at times, complete in his authority, and less erratic. The deep lull of his voice as terrifying as it was captivating at times, particularly when loneliness plagued her and she felt she would suddenly cease to exist in that room. It didn't help that he plagued her dreams. The dream him whispered things that made her skin feel as it would burn and melt off her bones, touch her scorching skin with his hands, sometimes his mouth would press against the frenetic pulse in her neck. It felt so real she would wake feeling strange, heart erratic, the linen damp with her sweat and the furs too hot despite the cold. She hardly ever got sick, but perhaps?Sometimes the embarrassment of seeing him made her nauseous.

They got worse. The chasing, the run, him…

She had not cried in many days. She was sure it had been days. She had trouble deciphering the passing of time in the cold, dark place. Tears were useless. They didn't save her, they didn't help her make plans, they didn't clear her mind and make her think rationally. The tears welled now, hot and fierce, in her panic, and she clamped her palm against her forehead as she paced and sobbed, the other around her stomach, her hip, her heart. The need to physically touch her body to know that she was still present when the dread overwhelmed her.

'Persephone?' Orphne asked, lyrical voice soft with concern. 'Are you alright?'

She gasped when breathing became difficult, jolted away when the nymph's hand closed around her upper arm.

'What is wrong? Persephone, you aren't breathing properly. Take a deep breath.'

Something inside of her snapped, energy pulsing down her arms in a rush, similar to when she had made the amarantos grow in the olives. The rage and anguish in her starting to scare her. She wanted to hurt, hurt beyond repair, and scream and scream and scream. But she couldn't hurt Orphne. Even if she so desired to strike, hit until pale flesh was pulverised. She couldn't do it. Couldn't force her limbs to move. She couldn't harm anyone.

Overwhelmed and desperate, she grasped her index and pointer finger on her right hand and snapped it back towards her wrist, feeling the break of bones, the pain so intense. Grounding and a blessing. 'My name is not PERSEPHONE!'

Orphne's mouth was open, a look of complete shock and horror on her face, until Kore pushed past her and out into the corridor. Her anguish was blinding. She had only taken a few exploratory steps out in those corridors before her fear of the darkness swallowing her drove her back inside the room. Now she ran, ran towards anything, turning down corridor after corridor blindly. Until she finally found a door. She smashed into it with her shoulder, expecting it to be locked, and fell forward when it swung open. Her chin connected with the stone landing, unprepared to stop her sudden fall, however she scrambled to her feet, ignoring the pain of her hand and her mouth, and ran towards the water of the river.

All rivers led to the sea.

The water was the colour of precious emerald stones, brilliantly clear as glass that she could see every detail of the river floor, and unnervingly still. Readying to throw herself into it, almost, until the steel band of an arm whipped around her waist and lifted her so her feet flew off the ground, spinning her dizzyingly away from the water she had so desperately tried to dive into.

'Persephone!'

His voice. Admonishing. Slightly panicked?

Dreaded and wanted.

She snarled in her anger, twisting and flinging her limbs, hitting at Hades' body as hard as she could so that he might release her. He grunted, but held her steady, his grip a vice. She felt the press of his mouth against her ear, impossibly warm against her cold skin.

'Shhh little one,' he whispered, calming, as if she were a wild animal.

She was a wild animal. Angry and upset and desperate. Her small fists battered against his chest, slowing when the exhaustion was too much and she slumped against him.

She felt Hades' fingers drift across her jaw. 'You broke your own fingers. Why did you do that?'

She was so tired, and he was asking stupid questions. She rested her head against his chest, hearing the erratic beat of his heart. 'I wanted to hurt. I couldn't harm Orphne.'

As her rage started to disintegrate into ash, it made less sense.

Hades grasped her injured hand, her two fingers starting to swell and purple, both at awkward and unnatural angles. She looked at them with detached fascination.

'Count to three,' he said.

She sighed, her eyes closing, 'One, two…'

He closed his fingers around them swiftly, jerking them back into place, the pain so intense she howled.

'The Lethe would take away who you are if you happened to drink the water,' he murmured, looking down at her when she stilled, clasped her hand against the fabric of his tunic, the fingers throbbing. 'Don't run again, Persephone.'

'I need to reach the sea!' she whispered, she peered up at him, eyes pleading. 'All rivers empty into the sea! I could go home!'

Hades' grey eyes searched hers. Unreadable. The grey like liquid, molten, infinite. 'None of these rivers end up in the sea. This river will not take you home. The opposite. I will not abide by that. You would be lost forever.'

She couldn't leave. The rivers were not her path back home. To a place where she felt safe…and so unhappy.

The surety of that realisation shocked and confused her more than any story Hades told.

The rage that burned so quickly was quickly consumed and she was left empty.

'That would have been better.'


End file.
